In November 1830, a month before he died, Bolívar recorded some conclusions about his historical experience in a letter to General Juan J. Flores. Among his certainties was that “whoever serves a revolution plows at sea”. The liberator's disappointment in part of South America was as great as his political-military intentions had been in the campaigns that brought about the end of Spanish colonial rule at the beginning of the XNUMXth century.
Between enthusiasm and disappointment there is one constant: the vision of the leader who followed his ideas and had little appreciation for the reality that surrounded him. His worldview seemed to fit historical conditions and, in a romantic and messianic vein, he wanted to bend them to his convictions. Simón Bolívar (1783-1830) is an emblematic figure who echoes passions and political constructions on the right and left.
The cult of Bolívar, borrowing the title of the work published in 1969 by historian Germán Carrera-Damas, goes beyond ideological barriers. Political cycles in Venezuela, for example, produced a historical instance of legitimizing regimes based on and around the figure of Bolívar: sometimes as heir to enlightenment and liberalism, sometimes as a spokesperson against imperialism. In these operations, a heroic vision of an unfinished historical project emerges that flirts with both the republican ideal and the authoritarianism of lifelong power to combat internal divisions.
With Hugo Chávez's rise to power in 1999, the phenomenon surrounding the liberator acquired a continental dimension around a supposed “Bolivarianism” or the construction of XNUMXst century socialism, based on alliances between progressive governments in different parts of America. and the Caribbean. The term Bolivarianism is not clear enough in its political meanings and uses, but it was an appropriation of Bolívar by the Caracas government. Chávez's opponents, in turn, could not give up the figure that their political ancestors built around official Venezuelan history and the image of a strong ruler represented by Bolívar himself who, if necessary, would use violence to obtain what he considered be the common good.
The Venezuelan political model mimicked the various bolivars and their facets present in the procer's vast discursive and epistolary production. There is no single Bolívar nor a univocal perspective surrounding his legacy. In the recent crisis in Venezuela, however, there is silence around Bolívar. Both the government of Nicolás Maduro and the opposition have faced each other in a situation that resembles a civil war, without the historical figure being claimed by either group.
The worsening of the Venezuelan crisis and political impasses show a worrying picture of human rights violations by a ruler who increasingly has dictatorial aspects. The persecution of the opposition, disputes between the constituted powers and the erosion of government legitimacy are increasingly visible. Neighboring countries, involved in their internal turmoil, have made formal demonstrations about the Venezuelan crisis. The signs of an outcome appear controversial after the murder of more than 90 protesters since April 2017 and the transfer to house arrest of opponent Leopoldo López in early July.
The violence in the streets, the divisions within Chavismo, the supply crisis, the use of militias and the permanent political demonstrations indicate that the government is still sustained by the strength and rhetoric of the attack on the project of popular sovereignty that it would represent and, at the same time, At the same time, it faces growing discontent among young university students, the media and the middle class. Chavismo, with its varied plebiscitary consultations, contributed to the hollowing out of representative democracy and was successful as long as there was economic prosperity, social advances and the presence of a charismatic leadership like Hugo Chávez. In the absence of the same conditions, the current political regime is collapsing.
An emptying process?
Bolívar's uses in the Venezuelan political dispute prior to the current context are not as disturbing as the strategies that appear to spare the hero of independence. For historians, silences are more eloquent than speeches. The historical character of the present time, like the past, does not produce unique meanings of interpretation and the possible agreement in dichotomous groups around a silence regarding Bolívar may suggest some interpretations.
Was Bolívar's broad exposition followed by an exhaustion of the image of a being endowed with historical consciousness who had the answers to the mistakes experienced in the past and present? Or would the story be even more complex and tragic if we think that more than Bolívar himself, what would be in crisis would be the possible interpreters of the political project that would best correspond to the impasses of current political life? In this case, both in officialism and in the opposition, the crisis becomes more widespread due to the few alternatives for any project that could reconnect Venezuela to some convergence.
Or can we still think that this silence is just a momentary strategy of the groups in dispute for fear of which Bolívar would emerge in this troubled scenario: the traditional patriotic leader or the one from the Chavista reinterpretations?
Any speculation indicates that there is a kind of kidnapping of Bolívar and that, at some point, a group will emerge with a proposal to rescue symbolism and political speeches that seek affiliation with a past converted into a sanctuary. The tragic thing, as Bolívar himself warns in the letter mentioned in this text, will be thinking that power could fall into the hands of “almost imperceptible little tyrants”. This will be the permanent risk whenever we think about messianic solutions or when we ignore the desires for social justice in order to think about some principle that we can call democratic.
Choices between authoritarianism and social exclusion are not choices, they are burdens.
Perhaps the issue lies, after all, in the need to reevaluate experiences and demystify subjects converted into historical deities. Historical figures and processes must always be questioned, problematized, but not catapulted into the essentialized condition of the destinies of peoples and societies. And, in this case, it would be better for the old Bolívar to stay on the pages and in historiographical discussions and less in the immediate clash of Venezuelan political life. Bolívar's omnipresence recalls the question and warning of Argentine Juan Bautista Alberdi (1810-1884) after liberation from Spanish rule: “who will free us from our liberators? ”