Argentina: from Carlos Menem to Fernando de la Rua
Fernando de la Rua’s victory in the Argentine presidential elections of October 24th marks the end of ten vears of ‘Menemism’. But what are the reasons for this major political change in Argentina and what overall assessment can be made of Carlos Menem’s two terms in office?
First a look at the facts and figures: Fernando de la Rua of the Unión Civica Radical (UCr), one of the two historic parties in Argentina, and the presidential candidate for the so-called Alianza made up of the UCR and FREPASO (Frente Pais Solidario) obtained 48.5 per cent of votes, and was so elected at the first round (the Argentine constitution requires a minimal percentage of 45 per cent of the votes and an advantage of at least 10 per cent over the second-placed candidate). The government candidate, Eduardo Duhalde, of the Partido Justicialista (Pj) obtained 38.09 per cent, while the former Minister of Ecоnomics in the Menem administration and father of the peso-dollar convertibility plan, Domingo Cavallo, who later split with Menem, represented the Presidencia de Acción por la República (PAR) received 10 per cent.
Thus the prospect of a second round was not so far off, at least from the numerical point of view. But all the observers agreed in describing the result as a sweeping victory for de la Rua, as had already been widely predicted by the opinion polls.
In the legislative elections held at the same time as the presidential vote, the Alliance fared even betterthan expected; its total numberof seats has now risen to 125,compared to 101 for the Pj and 12 for PAR (129 seats are required for the majority). De la Rua cannot, therefore, rely on an absolute majority in Congress and willoften have to negotiate with the opposition to win approval for his bills.
The situation has been aggravated by the fact that the Senate, which will not be reelected until 2001, has a Partido justicialista majority and that fourteen of the twenty-three Argentine provinces (including Buenos Aires, Cordoba and Santa Fe) are in the opposition’s hands.
Thus, although de la Rua had an outright victory, this does not necessarily mean a radical political change, given that the opposition still has a significant share of power, and in the coming four years rather than to the defeated Duhalde will still look to Menem, who is very keen to come back on the scene in 2003, when the constitution will allow him to do so.
In an article published in this review commenting the election of Carlos Menem in 1995 (Acque & Terre no. 3, 1995), we concluded by saying that over and above his undoubted merits and a number of contradictions connected with the Peron inheritance, Menem’s second term of office should strengthen ‘Menemism’ as a political movement with its own specific features.
At the end of his second term of office, we must say that Menemism, has certainly emerged as such, becoming increasingly free of the Peron-like Justicialist approach, even though he has shown several shortcomings in terms of continuity.
Menem has consolidated his position as the most important Justicialist leader since Peron. But the policy lines characterising his action as President are far from the Peronist legacy. In fact what has remained is only a merefacade – although we must concede that the historical context is completely different.
Menem’s main policy guidelines from 1989 to 1999
The main idea in Menem’s policy was to overturn the traditional approach to Argentine economics. Ten years of major structural reforms have opened up the economic system, traditionally centred on the domestic market.
The key elements in the strategy were the deregulation of the domestic market, liberalisation of foreign trade and the privatisation of almost all state-owned companies.
Although these reformswere also carried out to a lesser or greater degree throughout Latin America in the 1990s, the Argentine case is undoubtedly the most radical in terms of intensity and speed of reform.
The importance of the state in the Argentine economy has been a widely reduced by the structural changes. Particularly significant reforms were made in terms of privatising pension funds. In this sense Menem is diametrically opposed to Peron, even though he conserved the facade of Peronism by encouraging the idea of concentrating social action on the most needy sections of the population (the political expression of this aspect Menemism was his support for the candidacy of Palito Ortega in the PJ primaries against Duhalde).
Linked to the deregulation and liberalisation process was the opening up of the Argentine economy to foreign capital and especially the strategic choice at regional level to step up integration with Brazil in the framework of MERCOSUR. Although the initial steps on the road to integration were taken by President Alfonsin and his Brazilian colleague Sarney, and indeed even Peron had proposed the so-called ABC (Argentina, Brazil and Chile), it was Menem who gave the integration process real momentum.
Other foreign policy decisions also highlighted the change in direction in Argentine diplomacy: its withdrawal from the movement of non-aligned countries (which still exists, although no one knows the object of the non-alignment!), the strategic drawing nearer to the United States in terms of defence (such as Menem’s proposal for an associate membership of the country with NATO), and the increasingly frequent use of Argentine contingents in multinational peace forces under the auspices of the UN. Another feature of Menem’s policy was a strong presidential presence in Argentine political life, in which executive power clearly dominated over legislative power. It will be difficult for de la Rua to follow the same path.
While Menem’s re-election in 1995 was mainly due to the success of the economic stability plan (the currency-board system still anchors the value of the real to the dollar, thus freezing inflation), some of the less positive features of Menem’s model of economic modernisation emerged during his second term of office. Although greatly aрpreciated by public opinion, monetary stability has excessively limited the flexibility of the economy (see the loss of competitiveness of Argentine products on foreign markets and the excessive increase in the cost of living for lower- to middle-class families on the domestic front). Aggravated by the continuing Brazilian financial crisis, this set of factors has led to a significant increase in unemployment (now 14.5 per cent), accompanied by social problems such as a rise in crime and poverty.
Menem’s second term of office was characterised by growing signs of corruption in the president’s entourage during the privatisation processes. In general, Menem’s image did not benefit from the atmosphere of glamour, easy earnings and luxury that were such a feature of circles close to the president over the last few years.
In this sense the electorate showed a greater liking for Fernando de la Rua, whose personality is diametrically opposed to that of Mеnem (one of his electoral broadcasts began with the phrase ‘they say I am boring…”), who conveyed an image of austerity to the publicopinion, arguably a necessary antidote to Menem’s flamboyance.
A long-standing militant in the UCr, de la Rua built up a solid reputation as the Mayor of Buenos Aires, and last year he won the Alianza primaries ahead of opposition from a very charismatic rival, the FREPASO candidate Graciela Fernandez Meijide, the great victor of the legislative elections in October 1997. Founded in 1997 by Ucr radicals and some defectors from FREPASO, the Alliance supported Octavio Bordon in the 1995 elections, and at the time seemed the only feasible way to defeatthe Partido Justicialista.
The Alliance would have seen its position weakened considerably if there had been any lengthy uncertainty over the identity of the candidate for the presidential elections (Fernandez Meijide emerged as the most likely candidate at the time when the Alliance was founded). But the primaries were organised very early on and, once de la Rua had been chosen as candidate, the two wings of the movement managed to get on together in promoting the electoral campaign with no bungling, thus paradoxically showing a more united front than was аctually the case compared to the government, torn in the early months of the election campaign by the rivalry between Menem and Duhalde.
A Justicialist governor from the province of Buenos Aires, Duhalde suffered greatly from the lukewarm support given to his candidacy by Menem. In fact Menem had hoped right until the end that he would obtain a constitutional change, as he managed to do in 1995, allowing him to stand for a third consecutive term of office.
But this proposal deeply divided Argentine public opinion and was not even unanimously accepted in his own party. Although in the end the Supreme Court rejected the possibility of interpreting the constitution to meet Menem’s claims, the tug-of-war over the question lasted right up to a few months before the elections, thus further weakening the position of Duhalde, who even after his selection was given little support by the president.
Duhalde was further penalised by the worsening economic crisis (negative growth rate of 3 per cent forecast for 1999, and the unemployment rate at 14.5 per cent), the emergence of various scandals and a wave of crime in the province of Buenos Aires.
The worsening economic recession, mainly due to the loss of competitiveness of Argentine exports, led to the country accruing a significant trade surplus with Brazil in the 1990s, and the wavering prospects of his candidacy led Duhalde to embrace a certain populism (such as the injudicious announcement of a possible moratorium on foreign debt), which although in line with the ideological legacy of Peron had a counter-productive effect on most of the electorate.
Ultimately, de la Rua appeared as a representative of both continuity and change compared to the years of Menemism. Although formally a government candidate, Duhalde then tried to play the card of a break with Menem, both on political and personal grounds.
Moreover, Menem had reiterated his intentions for thefuture: on October 25th the billboards of Buenos Aires were plastered with posters announcing his candidacy for the 2003 elections. In this sense, Duhalde’s defeat has favoured Menem’s plans. He will hope for a relative failure of de la Rua in order to defeat him at the next elections (although if the failure was too disastrous, it might call into question the decisions made in ten years of Menemism).
The key challenges facing de la Rua
The first thing de la Rua will have to do is meeting the expectations created in terms of consolidating the economic model he has inherited. He is in agreement with the basic choices made by Menem, but at the same time will have to go to great lengths to overcome the limits in this model.Argentine public opinion expects effective measures in the struggle against unemployment and growing social problems. But the adoption of such policies will be limited by the need to curb fiscal debt, which has grown considerably over the last decade.
The solution to this dilemma can only come from boosting the economy, after its negative growth in 1999. The first measures announced by de la Rua concern legislative initiatives in favour of small- to medium-sized firms. The recent Brazilian crisis has highlighted the low competitiveness of many Argentine industrial sectors, which have sat back on the basis of the favourable exchange rate with Brazil without exploiting the favourable economic situation to introduce structural reforms aimed at increasing competitiveness. Once Argentine products were no longer economic on the Brazilian market because of the overvaluation of the real, the problems came out into the open, and Argentina saw its trade balance worsen considerably.
Thus an active policy of industrial modernisation to re-launch Argentinean competitiveness has become a must, and will continue to be a priority for the new government. Moreover, the currency-board system also penalised the Argentine economy. In this field, de la Rua will have to tackle a serious dilemma, although for the time being he has stated his willingness to continue with the fixed parity with the dollar. But a scenario with the medium-term devaluation of the peso cannot be ruled out.
Not surprisingly Argentina is in favour of extending the dollar to the whole of Latin America area, which would automatically allow it to recover competitiveness with no internal traumas.
Another priority for the new government will be the struggle against corruption and a more precise definition of the role of controlling authorities in a highly privatised economic system.
The re-launching of MERCOSUR is also of a fundamental importance and de la Rua is particularly keen on this idea. Argentina cannot afford any slacking in the integration process, given that the regional market is its main foreign outlet for exports. It is no accident that de la Rua visited Cardoso only two days after the elections and made positive overtures to the other MERCOSUR members. He called for a deepening of the integration process, especially as regards macroeconomic coordination, as the solution to the problems being experienced by the regional bloc.
Moreover, the negative turn in the multilateral trade talks in the World Trade Organisation means there can be no illusions about anysignificant short-term increase in exports of farm products, one of the key issues both for Argentina and Brazil as the leading members of the Cairns Group.
In any case a certain degree of economic recovery is expected in 2000, and this factor should help the new government to manage a far from easy situation at political level, given its lack of an absolute majority in Congress, the opposition majority in the Senate, and the high number of provinces currently being administered by the Justicialist governors.
The unity of the Alliance will thus be very important in this sense in its first government experience. The cabinet announced by de la Rua on November 24th is made up of eight radicals and two Frepaso members (including Fernandez Meijide as Minister of Social Affairs). Most of the ministers have an economic background, which should contribute to conveying an image of solidity and continuity.
In announcing his government de la Rua stated that the three main priorities of the new government were the struggle against three ‘deficits’: fiscal, social and moral.
In conclusion, we may say that the political situation following the elections is characterised by a number of novelties in terms of the Argentine political tradition. For the first time the government must rely on the partial support of the opposition and, moreover, the traditional two-partysystem has now been eroded by the emergence of a third force, albeit with strong links with radicalism.
In the recent Uruguay elections, the narrow victory of the Jorge Batlle, the Colorado Party
candidate over the emerging Tabare Vasquez from the Frente Amplio, the ‘broad front’ of
left-wing forces, reflects a basically similar phenomenon. Despite ideological differences, given that the Uruguayan Frente has nothing in common with the Argentine Alianza, significantly for the first time there was a break with the traditional two-party system –Blancos against Colorados – which has characterised Uruguayan politics since independence. The Frente has a relative majority both in the Chamber of Deputies (40 out of 95 seats) and in the Senate (12 out of 29),and this factor will introduce considerable innovations to political life in the country.
These two situations seem to confirm a now irreversible consolidation of democracy in the countries in the Southern Cone, linked to the inevitable process of social modernisation now underway in all countries in the region.
Chile: the election of Ricardo Lagos and the Pinochet case
The victory of the socialist Ricardo Lagos in the second round of the Chilean presidential elections (16 January 2000) provides the starting point for an analysis of the current political situation in the country.
Latin American affairs have often not attracted much attention in Italy, but Chile and its political situation have always aroused more interest compared to other more influential and larger countries in the region. Brazilian and Argentinian politics are certainly less well-known, despite the greater specific weightof these countries.
In my opinion the reasons for this Italian interest in Chile are due to the following factors. Despite the geographical distance, the political categories in Chile have always been familiar to Italian observers. Before the dictatorship, the three main political parties were the Christian Democrats, the Socialist Party, and the Communist Party. The situation was thus different from all other Latin American countries, and the evolution of the political system and its alliances, especially in the 1960’s and 1970’s, made Chile into a kind of laboratory – in the eyes of Italian pоlitical parties – serving as a kind of reference pointfor the specific situation in Italy.
Indeed, it is unthinkable that the Italian left, whether socialist or communist, would not have looked sympathetically on the election of president Salvador Allende in 1970. For the first time since Leon Blum in France, and thus for the first time after the advent of ‘real communism’, a social-communist coalition won power democratically (although to be truly accurate in 1938 Aguirre Cerda had already been elected at the head of a radical-socialist-communist coalition): despite being in remote Latin American, the Chilean example was interpreted as a good omen for that part of the Italian left whose main aim was to send the Christian Democrats packing.
But the Italian Christian Democrats also had a privileged relation with Chile. In 1964 Eduardo Frei was the first Latin American Christian Democrat leader to become president. In the South American sub-continent only Venezuela and Chile have traditional Christian Democratic parties of some importance, so the sympathy between the Italian Christian Democrats (Dc) – otherwise little inclined to look to Latin America – and their counterparts in Chile was more than justified.
The experience of the Unidad Popular (Popular Unity), the coalition which governed Chile from 1970 to 1973 was followed enthusiastically by the Italian left. Moreover, it saw the Chilean example as a concrete challenge to Us imperialism. There was an obvious parallel with Italy’s situation as a frontier country between the two major blocs, in which the so-called ‘K factor’ had always prevented a political alliance between socialists and communists in the government.
Similarly, in the years of Eurocommunism, Chile was inevitably an important referencе point.
The traumatic military coup of 11 September 1973 was thus a bad setback for everyone. The brutality and repression that followed contributed to keeping Chile in the forefront of concerns for public opinion.
Allende became a myth for the left worldwide. Although some malevolent interpretations by the extreme left at the time, accиsing Chilean Christian Democrats of connivance with the military, had more to do with using the Chile crisis for domestic Italian purposes rather than any real knowledge of the situation.
The evolution of the Pinochet regime clearly proved that even though the 1973 coup had been against Popular Unity, the military regirme clearly had no intention of handing over to civilians, not even that the conservatives.
Like the parties in Popular Unity, the Christian Democrats thus remained on the sidelines of political life until 1989, when together they formed the ‘no’ front for the referendum called by Pinochet in an attempt to perpetuate his rule.
The ‘no’ front was later to become the Concertación coalition, which has governed Chile since 1990, first under the leadership of the Christian Democrats Patricio Aylwin and Eduardo Frei (junior) and now under the presidency of Ricardo Lagos, the first socialist to occupy the Moneda since Allende’s tragic end.
While both Aylwin and Frei had straight first-round victories and Lagos was a clear favourite a year ago, over the last year in the opinion polls his advantage was gradually whittled away in favour of the right-wing candidate Joaquín Lavín.
This slump was partly influenced by the Pinochet case, which put the Concertación front in a predicament: the Chilean government made up of the democratic opposition to the Pinochet dictatorship was forced to act in favour of a return home for the former dictator, while the right wing was making up ground anyway because of the economic crisis – all of this in an electoral year.
After a number of blunders, such as the clumsy attempt by Santiago to give Pinochet unlikely a posteriori diplomatic immunity in order to demand his release, the Chilean government adopted a position based on the distinction between the figure of General Pinochet as a person and the defence of the national sovereignty of the country and the attendant prerogatives.
At the first round of the presidential elections (12 December 1999) Ricardo Lagos obtained a very slight victory over Joaquín Lavín: 47.95 per cent of votes as opposed to 47.51 per cent for his rival, a margin of only 31,000 votes. This led to a hectic month of campaigning ahead of the second round on January 16th. Both candidates concentrated their efforts in those areas of the country where they had fared worst.
In the end, Lagos’s majority over Lavín at the second round was larger than expected: 51.3 per cent as opposed to 48.7 per cent,а majority of 188,000 votes. Lagos enjoyed the crucial massive support of Communist voters, three per cent of the electorate, who had supported Galdys Marín in the first round. Lavín, on the other hand, had already won almost all the votes he was going to get in the first round, and could only count on an extra one per cent from the supporters of Arturo Frei, the Pinochet candidate from the Unión de Centro Centro Progresista (UccР –Progressive Centre-Centre Union).
A sixty-one-year-old advocate and economist, Ricardo Lagos had been appointed ambassador to Moscow by Allende, but his appointment was revoked following the military coup. Having been exiled first in Argentina and then in the United States, he only returned to Chile in 1978, pledging to work for closer relations between the Socialists and the Christian Democrats.
On 7 September 1986, following an attempt on Pinochet’s life, Lagos was arrested by the investigative police. This actually turned out to be a stroke of luck, since four people on the same list of suspects, but arrested by the CNI (the political police of the regifne) were killed that same night.
In the dictatorship years, Lagos emerged as one of the most respected opposition leaders. But his rise to fame was sanctioned in April 1988, when in a peak television programme he openly accused Pinochet of wishing to stay in power through the reforms proposed by the institutional referendum, which were in fact then duly rejected in October 1989.
In 1987 he had founded the Partido por la Democracia (PPD – Party for Democracy), a kind of a bridge between the Ps, ofwhich Lagos has always been a card-carrying member, and the Dc.
After the victory of the ‘no’ front in the October 1989 referendum and the election of Patricio Aylwin in the subsequent presidential elections, Lagos became Minister of Education in the first Concertación government. He was then Minister of public works with Frei until 19 August 1998, when he resigned to embark on his own electoral campaign.
Lagos must definitely be considered as an exponent of the Third Way. His brand of socialism is very modern, and remote therefore – for obvious reasons connected to the changing times – from Allende’s Popular Unity. But we must bear in mind that Chile has been deeply scarred by its recent history and characterised by extreme radicalideological positions. This partly explains the defection of around twenty per cent of the Christian Democrat electorate to Lavín. For many people in Chile the word socialist is synonymous with chaos, subversion of
social values, and bankruptcy (that in fact is how the right assesses the Allende years).
The presence of the left in the Concertación coalition was from the outset partly compensated by the Christian Democratic leadership, which had allowed Aylwin and Frei to appeal to the moderate electors. Lagos had actually been defeated by Frei in the Concertación primaries in 1993. Frei then went on to an easy victory at the firstround over Arturo Alessandri, the rightwing candidate, winning with 54.8 per cent of votes.
In this year’s primaries, Lagos easily beat the Christian Democrat candidate Andrés Zaldívar with 71.3 per cent ofvotes. But a lot changed in the meantime. In addition to Pinochet’s arrest in London, which made the climate of Chilean politics even more extreme and dominated the political debate until mid-1999, the Brazilian financial crisis created a recession throughout the region; social unrest increased and the lastly Lavín hit on a very successful electoral
campaign.
The Chilean economy is one of the most liberal in the world: the Chile-style liberalisation pursued by the dictatorship technocrats followed the dictates of the Chicago school, and indeed it was a pioneering model. The centre-left governments did nothing to change this policy, and this was one of the reasons for their continuing success. The results had been spectacular: growth rates in 1995, 1996 and 1997 were 10.6 per cent, 7.4 per cent and 7.6 per cent, respectively. By 1998 the rate had fallen to 3.4 per cent, while the contagious effects of the international financial crisis led to a meagre 0.5 per cent in 1999. Is this the end then of the much praised Chilean model? The answer is no. But a completely free economy is too dependent on the international situation, since it cannot rely on a large domestic market.
The Brazilian and, more importantly, Argentinian recession (the neighbouring countries across the Andes had negative growth rates of 3.5 per cent) thus had drastic repercussions on Chile. Nor were the links between Chile and the Asian economies (Chile is the leading Latin American
country in terms of trade across the Pacific) to any avail, since the international crisis actually began in Asia.
This was a major headache for the government front and for Lagos, since the threat to prosperity is the great taboo for the Chile right, willing to forgive Pinochet anything because of the wave of well-being generatedby his ultra-liberal reforms.
As long as the centre-left could show solvency in economic affairs, it had no problem in obtaining a solid majority. But as soon as the economic results began to fail, everything became much more difficult.
The slowing down of economic growth went hand in hand with worsening social problems. Unemployment rose from 6.8 per cent in mid-1998 to 11.4 per cent in 1999. Various socialprotests have also beleaguered Chile over the last year. Doctors, students and port workers have pursued claims with big demonstrations, some degenerating into violence (the Chilean police is traditionally very ‘firm’).
The indigenous Mapuche also pursued claims over the control of territory and the use of forest resources. Energy problems occurred on several occasions, thus casting doubt on the efficiency of the economic model.
The long economic honeymoon, which had avoided any worsening of unresolved political tensions, thus came to an end from 1998 to 1999.
In this context, Joaquín Lavín managed to draw up a winning strategy. The fact he was not elected must not detract from his success in obtaining a historic result, much better than the 43 per cent of the ‘yes’ in the 1989 referendum, which seemed to be an insuperable threshold for the traditional Chilean right. Lavín definitely came out of the 1999 elections as moral victor.
The forty-six-year old Lavín was backed by his own party, the Unión Democrata Independiente (UDI- Independent Democratic Union) and the Renovación Nacional (RN- National Renewal), parties from the Pinochet regime.
The UDI – Lavín is a joint founder – is an extreme right-wing party whose policies are liberal in economics and ultra-conservative in social affairs. We must remember that Chile has a social legislation out of line with most Western countries (for example, divorce and abortion are both prohibited).
Lavín has an impeccable background from the point of view of the Chilean right. He studied at the Catholic University of Chile, the cradle for the so-called gremialismо movement, the ideological reference point for the Chilean right, and then specialised at Chicago University, the cradle for the liberal model implemented in the country.
The key to Lavín’s successful electoral campaign was that he managed to progressively shift towards the centre, gradually moving away from the figure of Pinochet, but without breaking completely with the legacy of the regime.
Lavín also adopted a very concrete approach to his campaign, based on his great popularity as mayor of Las Condes, the wealthiest suburb of Santiago. He built up an image of a technocrat not embroiled in party struggles, which had been such a feature of the Concertación in recent times.
This set of factors almost carried Lavín Chilean to the presidency and laid the basis for a deep renewal in Chilean political life in the coming years.
The Pinochet case, which had captured public opinion in the year following his arrest, gradually died down. His story had practically no influence in the run into the elections, focused on economic and social issues. This in itself is a very significant fact for Chile, characterised since 1973 by a radical Manichaeanism in political life.
Lavín’s excellent performance, the rise of Lagos and the end of Pinochet open up new prospects for Chilean politics.
The Chilean right now has the chance to completea process of normalisation and modernisation in the next few years. This means gradually abandoning the almost blind trust in the Pinochet legacy. Consequently, the left should stick with Lagos in pursuing an increasingly Third Way model. But above all Chilean politics should finally become a forum for peaceful dialogue in the context of substantial social stability, thus losing the uncompromising bleak tones which had characterised them for so long.
This great work in progress should complete the political transition and modify the ‘armour-plated’ constitution inherited from Pinochet, and this indeed is Lagos’s main priority.
In the current political context, the majority cannot make these changes alone. It will require the support of the more moderate currents of the right wing. The situation in parliament sees Concertación with 78 seats out of a total 120 in the lower house, and with 20 senators out of 48 in the Senate, a minority due to the presence of 10 ‘institutional senators’, all close followers of Pinochet.
The left, therefore, does not have the critical mass to reform the constitution, if the two traditional blocs fail to compromise. And it is difficult to see the legislative elections next spring changing the situation greatly.
Moreover, there are also constitutional mechanisms preventing the harmonious development of Chilean democracy, such as the supreme decision-making power on questions of national interest, attributed to an organ composed of half military and half civilians, which rules by absolute majority, so far never actually achieved. This rigidity in institutional life has so far blocked any attempt to judge war criminals from the dictatorship (usually military men).
A less turbulent political life will thus contribute to setting upa moderate debate on the constitutional future of Chile. In this context, the great unknown factor is represented by the forthcoming return of the life senator Augusto Pinochet.
It is unlikely that his probable incrimination, now forced on the judicial authorities by international developments, will actually see the former dictator sitting in the dock. Public opinion is very divided on this issue, but what now appears to be certain is that Pinochet’s influence on Chilean political life has definitely waned.
When Augusto Pinochet returns to Chile, he will be a very different man from the arrogant leader who left in October 1998, notonlyon the grounds ofhis health, but more importantly because of his loss of prestige both at home and abroad.
Although having always met with unanimous international condemnation at political level – to which he simply replied claiming he was only accountable to God and Chile – Pinochet is now also liable to be condemned at juridical level. Thus while two years ago it was unthinkable that he would be tried in Chile, today it is quite probable.
The Chilean right, of which hewas a hero for decades, now feels ill at ease with his legacy and has begun to abandon him. In short, Pinochet has been defeated in London, even though he has been allowed to return home. We conclude with some remarks of a juridical nature about the Pinochet case.
Rivers of ink have flown on this topic and there has been a very heated debate in public opinion and between experts of international law.
Many have been disappointed at the prospect of Pinochet’s return to Chile, but what should be stressed are the incredible developments of this case in terms of its implications for international law.
When Garzón asked for Pinochet to be arrested and extradited, the real chances that this would happen were objectively slight. At the time of his arrest, Pinochet had the following points in his favour:
- – The crimes he was accused of were only the competence of Chilean justice;
– He enjoyed absolute immunity since he was head of state when the crimes he was accused of were committed;
– He also enjoyed diplomatic immunity as a life senator.
What is the situation for international law two years later?
After the third point-by far the weakest – fell, thanks to the Pinochet case the doctrine of international law now accepts the following:
- – Any crimes considered to be particularly serious crimes against humanity (Nuremberg doctrine) cannot be prescribed over time – this is a great novelty – and can be prosecuted by any national jurisdiction in the absence of an ad hoc or permanent international court and in the case of inaction by the country concerned;
– A head of state no longer enjoys absolute immunity for certain very serious crimes and especially in the period after his term in office.
The evolution of the Pinochet case has given greater juridical strength to international conventions, such as the Convention against Torture, also signed by Chile, but too often ignored in practice because of the inability to envisage coercive implementation measures or sanctions to punish the violations.
All of these factors are positive developments in international law caused by the Pinochet case,of which they are the essence. That’s why we feel we may claim that over and above the personal destiny of the man, the Pinochet case has made an extraordinarily important impact on strengthening the doctrine of international law. We believe this to be a great step forward.
Constitutional reform in Venezuela: a return to authoritarianism in Latin America?
The election of Hugo Chávez to the presidency of the Venezuelan Republic in December 1998, and the stormy events in his first year of office, culminating on 15th December last with the approval by a popular referendum of the new constitution, have generally been interpreted by international observers as alarming signs of a return to populism and militarism in Latin American political life.
In general the ongoing process in Venezuela is considered a step backwards compared to the consolidation of democratic values generally developing in Latin America (with the exception of Peru). There is a fear that Chávez may become a point of reference for other would-be caudillos, thus triggering off a spiral of authoritarianism in the region.
Although populism has never completely disappeared from the Latin American political scene, there can be no doubt that in recent years financial orthodoxy and economic modernisation have taken the wind out of its sails almost everywhere. As far as militarism is concerned, the role of the armies in domestic politics has been drastically reduced in the last fifteen years and it is difficult to foresee a return of the military to active political life.
The fact that Chávez was a leading member of the military coup in the 1990s against President Carlos Andrés Pérez, who resigned over corruption, is often cited as disconcerting proof of Chávez’ lack of a democratic pedigree.
But on the other hand, Chávez tends to be underestimated: he is, after all, the elected president with the largest majority ever in the history of the Venezuelan Republic and for the time being he enjoys remarkable popularity. So for some his original sin thus seems to be indelible.
In this article we will try to establish whether these severe judgements are accurate, or whether Chávez is not something more than a simple return to the past. What we can say from the outset is something which often emerges in our analysis of Latin America: it is misleading to assess Latin American policy and society according to the categories used for Europe and the United States, without bearing in mind the specific nature of Latin American democracy.
For example, why should we doubt the grounds, which led the majority of Venezuelans to vote for Chávez and to resolutely support – or at least not hinder, in the case of abstainers – his process of constitutional reform? The Venezuelans have a respectable democratic tradition and have voted freely since 1958, so why should they have lost their head now? Possibly because the electorate in other regions would have behaved differently?
Another argument often invoked to undermine Chávez’ legitimacy is the high abstention rate, recorded both in the elections for the constituent assembly and the recent referendum on the new constitution. Only one Venezuelan out of two bothered to vote in these two ballots. But aren’t the president of the United States or the Congressmen elected with a similarly low turnout? Why should what is a demonstration of democratic maturity for some become a demonstration of immaturity for South Americans?
There can be no doubt that the new constitution is too cumbersome and rife with populist tones such as the introduction of the ‘rightto happiness’ or the idea that ‘old men and women’ are resources of Venezuela (and there are plenty other examples).
Moreover, the new constitution considerable strengthens the role of the president, who can now be re-elected for a second term of office (but this is also the case in Peru, Argentina and Brazil). But can a political system based on European and North American models, in which civil society plays a key role, be plausible in the Latin America context, characterised by the presence of a few inner circles constantly in power? Since managing power in Latin America is a question for a select few and civil society is unable to exercise that key role in shaping politics, typical of our political systems, is it not quite understandable that change may be expressed through charismatic figures apparently inspired by good intentions?
In this sense Chávez’ success could be considered not so much as a negative reference point but as a positive example for the rest of the continent. But if the man himself disappoints the Venezuelans who supported him so enthusiastically, his experiment will be a repeat of an oft-seenold movie.
But let’s briefly summarised the facts. When with the fall of the dictator Pérez Jiménez (January 1958) due to the combined pressure of various social forces (political parties, unions, entrepreneurial organisations, and sections of the army), a highly consensual political system was created and named the punto fijo (‘fixed point’) after the pact agreed by the sides on 31st October 1958.
The constitution approved in 1969 guarantees individual liberties and establishes presidential, two-tier federal system. Important rights were also granted to the unions, based on a protectionist industrial policy founded on the distribution of state subsidies and an ambitious social policy.
The Venezuelan political system was based on a two-party system – the parties being the
Acción Democrática (Social Democrats) and the Comité de Organización Política Electoral Independiente (COPEI – Christian Democrats) – which until the 1990s was a model of political stability in Latin American. The healthy economic situation and a high degree of consensus and social peace forestalled the conditions for the entry of the military into political life,which had so deeply affected the rest of Latin America in the 1960s and ’70s.
The economic basis of this stability was oil. Venezuela is one of the main oil producers
in the world and a leading player in OPEC, of which it is the principal non-Arab member.
The flow of petrodollars, which rose even further from 1973 on, and handouts by the Venezuelan state guaranteed growth and social peace.
But the rise in income from the petrol shocks turned out to be harmful for the country. It led to excessive external debts, which instead of financing industrial investments produced an excessive growth in the public sector and basic products were subsidised instead of combating poverty at the roots.
The crisis came to a head in the 1980s and even more acutely in the 1990s. Venezuela failed to use its massive petrol incomes to diversify its economy and combat serious social problems.
When the price of raw materials, and especially oil, began to fall, a spiral of debt was triggered off and there wereere no longer any margins for a public-funded economic pоlicy or for a social policy based on subsidies. The economic policy decisions made by Venezuela in the years of abundance can probably be taken as the best example of how not to pursue economic development, but we should not forget that the general climate in the 1970s pushed developing countries and especially oil producers into debt.
Although they did not adopt the Reaganomics of the 1980s, which would have ruined them, Venezuela completely lacked any medium- to long-term vision.
With the gradual reduction in resources available, Venezuela’s political system began to crumble, although in 1988 the two main parties still picked up ninety-three per cent of votes.
The Caracazo of 1989 marked the tragic end to social peace in Venezuela. The starving masses living in the IA valley, which stretches from the international airport to Caracas, left their ranchitos and laid siege to the capital: Venezuela had entered an impasse.
The return to power of the two presidents from the years of abundance – first Carlos Andréz Pérez and then Rafael Caldera, who was elected in 1993 at the head of a mixed electoral alliance made up of various parties, thus effectively putting an the end to the two-party system – was proof of the Venezuelan political class’s inability to introduce changes to the by then obsolete system.
Caldera had been the first COPEI President in the period 1969-74 and his reputation of honesty proved convincing, after his predecessor Pérez (CAP) had been forced out of office because of corruption. But naturally the second time round Caldera was unable to repeat his success with those distributive economic policies, which had been a feature of his first term in office.
Although full of good intentions, Caldera was crushed by the effects of the end of the convertibility of the bolivar, which led to a massive flight of capital and the consequent banking crisis leading to the nationalisation of halfof the financial system.
The worsening economic situation was accompanied by increasing evidence of corruption spread through all strata of Venezuelan society (according to Transparency International, Venezuela is one of the mostcorrupt countries in the world).
At this point it may be of interest to cite some significant figures: in the period 1990-98, 120 billion petrodollars flowed into the country, but today six per cent of the population lives in dire poverty and a forty per cent do not have enough food to meet the nutritional standards established by FAO.
The pyramid of distribution of resources sees 14 per cent of the population controlling 75 per cent of national wealth. The other 86 per cent of the population must make do with the remaining 25 per cent.
These striking figures are surely a challenge to the concept of democracy, seen not so much from the formal definition (respect for the rules of the game) but in the wider substantial definition (the effects on the smooth functioning of society and the economy to the benefit of the largest number of people possible).
Should we really be surprised then by this great desire for change by Venezuelans, focused on the figure of Chávez?
Hugo Chávez, an army colonel, had taken part in the military coup in 1992. Having been condemned and pardoned after two years in prison, he founded the Fifth Republic Movement (MvR), which proposed adopting a new constitution to replace the 1961 or moribunda (according to Chávez’ slogan) constitution.
His political rise, based on undoubtedly populist tones, which struck home with the exasperated population, goes hand in hand with the inevitable decline of the traditional parties. In November 1998 together they only polled thirty-six per cent of votes, which still did not give Chávez’ Patriotic Front a parliamentary majority. But in the presidential elections the following month AD and COPEI withdrew their own candidates at the last moment and formed a coalition to back the independent front-runner Enrique Salas Römer.
Chávez’ sweeping victory (fifty-six per cent of votes) led him to forge ahead with his reformist plans. He called a referendum proposing the creation of a National Constituent Assembly (NCA), which was accepted with a ninety per cent vote in favour (albeit with an abstention rate of sixty-two per cent).
In the following elections to form the NCA (25 July 1999) the candidates associated with the Patriotic Front won a landslide victory because of the negative attitude of the traditional parties still reeling from the shock of Chávez’ election: 122 of the 128 deputies elected are associated with Chávez, while there are only six independent deputies.
The NCA began its often chaotic proceedings, broadcast live on television, and after three months produced a ‘Bolivar Constitution’. This is no simple copy of the original proposal made by Chávez, but rather a mixed bag of 350 articles (much less than the 1,000 or so original proposals).
The proposal for the Fifth Constitution was the subjectof a referendum approved on a 15 December 1999 with 71.24 per cent of votes in favour (54.58 per cent abstained).
The new constitution came into force immediately and the next important dates are the presidential elections in March 2000 which will surely see Chávez triumph again. We must stress that abstention rate was very high in all stages of the constitutional process after Chávez’ election. But is this sufficient grounds for doubting its democratic validity? I feel it would be very rash to do so. What are the main features in the new constitution? Here we do not have enough room to go into a detailed analysis of all the articles in the constitution, which offer a very interesting study for anyone interested in comparative politics. We will simply make one or twoessential remarks.
The constitution certainly gives more powers to the president. The presidential term of office is extended from five to six years and includes the possibility of re-election. The figure of a vice-president with the prerogatives of Prime Minister has been created and parliament now has a single-chamber system.
Venezuela has even changed its official name to the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela and two new powers have been created (aасtually already proposed in his day Simón Bolívar), the ‘moral’ and the ‘electoral’ power. Moral power embraces all the existing bodies (Fiscalía General and Contraloria General de la República) with other newly created bodies (Consejo Moral Republicano, an anti-corruption organisation, and an Ombudsman).
The chapter on socio-economic rights has been extended considerably. For example, it now includes universal social security and it will not be easy to reconcile such principles with the disastrous financial situation of the state.
The article on the right to receive timely, true and impartial information’will also raise concern because it could lead to the introduction of censure as will enabling the president to directly appoint military chiefs, thus creating a special relation between the army and president (many of Chávez’collaborators are old companions in arms).
Venezuela is obviously going through an important transition phase. Chávez was legitimately elected and enjoys the majority support of public opinion. On the wave of enthusiasm he has dedicated his first term in office to the political agenda, giving priority to constitutional changes. But the probable cause of the Venezuelan problems was not so much the ‘moribund’ fourth constitution as the incredible sequence of strategic errors committed in the two-party system, as well as rampant corruption. But Chávez had to make a strong political impact and he chose this constitutional way, which was approved by the population.
Support for Chávez will almost certainly wane if there are no significant improvements in the economic situation. And it is also likely that the traditional parties will manage to reorganise and break the front of almost total unanimity Chávez enjoyed in 1999. But clearly the president still has a good deal of room for manoeuvre in the coming years.
As regards economics, the populism of his declarations has been followed by much more moderate and orthodox decisions in practice. Although the economy was not a priority in 1999, similar catastrophic scenarios are unlikely and there are nowthe conditions for a turnaround in priorities,with an emphasis on economics rather than politics.
Venezuelan action in OPEC has led to a rise in the price of oil, which has injected new life into the Venezuelan economy. The main challenge in the coming years is to diversify beyond oil, a challenge which no one in Venezuela has ever had the courage to tackle. As we pointed out there are also a number of disturbing signs in the new constitution. But demonising Chávez a priori is neither legitimate nor fair. The supposed and improbable Columbia- Cuba-Venezuela FARC axis is part ofthose imaginary scenarios useful for the political purposes of anyone justifying a new wave of intervention in Latin America (see the pressure from the fight against drug traffic in Colombia and Peru, coinciding – by the way – with the handing back of the Panama Canal).
Chávez may well fail or not fulfil his promises. But the developments in Venezuela must be followed critically and objectively, leaving aside superficial analyses, often based on prejudices, which are only a hindrance in the study of political systems.