우고 차베스 Hugo Rafael Chavez Frias (1954.7.28-2013.3.5)
■ Postscript: Hugo Chávez, 1954-2013 [The New Yorker 2013.3.5]
Posted by Jon Lee Anderson
Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez Frias, who died on Tuesday, from
cancer, at the age of fifty-eight, was one of the most flamboyantly
provocative leaders on the world scene in recent years. His death came
after months in which his health was a national mystery, the subject of
obfuscation and rumors; he spent inauguration day for his second term in
a hospital bed in Cuba. Vice-President Nicolás Maduro, who made the
announcement, is one of the politicians now maneuvering to control Venezuela, where elections will be held within thirty days.
A one-time army paratrooper who served two years in prison after
leading a botched military coup against Venezuela’s government in 1992,
Chávez emerged from behind bars, after an amnesty, with a renewed
determination to achieve power, and sought the support of Cuba’s veteran
Communist leader Fidel Castro to do so. In 1998, Chávez won Venezuela’s
Presidential elections, promising to change things in his country
forever, from top to bottom. Since the day he was first sworn in as
President, in February, 1999, he devoted himself to doing precisely
that. What he has left is a country that, in some ways, will never be
the same, and which, in other ways, is the same Venezuela as ever: one
of the world’s most oil-rich but socially unequal countries, with a
large number of its citizens living in some of Latin America’s most violent slums.
To his credit, Chávez was devoted to trying to change the lives of the
poor, who were his greatest and most fervent constituents. He began by
hammering through a new constitution and renaming the country. Simon
Bolívar, who had fought to unite Latin America under his rule, was
Chávez’s hero, and so he changed the country’s name to the Bolivarian
Republic of Venezuela, and thereafter spent a great deal of time and
resources attempting to forge what he called his “Boliviarian
Revolution.” It was not, initially, to be a socialist or even
necessarily anti-American endeavor, but over the following years,
Chávez’s rule, and his adopted international role, became both, at least
in intention.
I met Chávez a number of times over the years, but the first time
I saw him was in 1999, shortly after he had become Venezuela’s
President, in Havana, Cuba, giving a speech in a salon at the
University. Both Castro brothers were in attendance—a rare sight—as were
other senior members of the Cuban Politburo. Fidel Castro looked on and
listened raptly as Chávez spoke for ninety minutes, essentially laying
out the rhetorical groundwork for the intense and deep relationship
between the two countries, and the two leaders, that was soon to follow.
That day, a number of observers present in the room commented on what
appeared to be a major bromance between the two. They were right.
Chávez, younger than Fidel by nearly thirty years, soon became
inseparable from the Cuban leader, who was clearly a father figure and a
role model. (Chávez’s own family was modest and provincial, from the
Venezuelan interior.) And for Castro, Chávez was an heir and something
like a beloved son. Uncannily, or fittingly, it was Fidel who noticed
Chávez’s discomfort on a visit to Havana in 2011, and insisted that he
see a doctor—who promptly discovered Chávez’s cancer, a tumor described
as the size of a baseball somewhere in his groin area. Since then, and
until he returned home in February, terminally ill, Chávez received
virtually all of his cancer treatment in Havana, under Fidel’s close
scrutiny.
A warm and amiable showman, with a remarkable sense of occasion as well
as strategic opportunity, Chávez grew in ambition, and global stature,
during the Bush years, in which Latin America was relegated to a back
burner for Washington. Chávez was alienated early on by the bellicose
rhetoric of the Bush Administration in the post-9/11 period, and became
increasingly acerbic about policies and attitudes of the American
“empire.” He delightedly ridiculed the U.S. President he called “Danger
Man” and “Donkey” and whom he regularly mocked on his weekly television
show, “Aló Presidente,” on which he sometimes made governing seem like
reality television. (He once ordered his Defense Minister to send
Venezuelan forces to the Colombian border live on “Aló Presidente.”)
An attempted coup d’etat by a cabal of right-wing politicians,
businessman, and military men in 2002 saw Chávez briefly and
humiliatingly detained, before he was freed and allowed to resume
office. The coup against Chávez had failed, but not before the plotters
had apparently received a wink and a nod from the Bush Administration.
Chávez never forgave the Americans. Thereafter, his anti-American
rhetoric became more heated, and whenever possible he sought to
discomfit Washington. Chávez closed U.S. military liaison offices in
Venezuela, and ended coöperation with the Drug Enforcement
Administration. Even earlier, in 2000, Chávez had flown to Baghdad for a
friendly visit with Saddam Hussein. Later on, in his avowed ambition to
weaken the U.S. imperio and create a “multipolar world,” he
would go on to embrace others with similarly anti-American stances:
Iran’s Ahmadinejad was one, Belarus’s Lukashenko was another. He invited
Vladimir Putin to send his navy to do exercises in Venezuelan waters,
and to sell him weapons. And there was his increasingly chummy, and
dependent, relationship with Fidel Castro.
Venezuelan oil was flowing to energy-strapped Cuba, effectively ending
the country’s almost decade-long penurious “Special Period” that
followed the Soviet collapse and the abrupt end of three decades of
generous subsidies from Moscow. Cuban doctors, sports instructors, and
security men were soon travelling in the other direction, helping Chávez
by staffing some of the programs he called Misiones, aimed at
alleviating poverty and disease in Venezuela’s slums and rural
hinterlands. Chávez and Castro took trips together, and frequently
visited one another’s countries, and it was obvious that they loved one
another’s company.
On a visit to Caracas in 2005, shortly after Chávez had announced that
he had decided that socialism was the way forward for his revolution and
for Venzuela, I saw him in the Presidential palace. He was manic with
newfound revolutionary fervor. In a meeting with poor peasant farmers,
he announced the seizure of several large private landholdings in the
interior, and instructed them euphorically to organize themselves into
collectives and farm the confiscated farms. “RAS!,” he shouted happily, repeating it several times. “RAS!” An aide explained that the acronym meant “Rumbo al socialismo”—“Onward
to socialism.” It never really panned out, though. Chávez’s attempts at
collectivization and agrarian reform seemed ill-planned and
out-of-time, somehow, much as he himself often seemed a throwback to
earlier times, when Latin America was dominated by willful caudillos,
and there was a Cold War with a world clearly polarized.
A couple of years later, I asked him why, so late in the day, he had
decided to adopt socialism. He acknowledged that he had come to it late,
long after most of the world had abandoned it, but said that it had
clicked for him after he had read Victor Hugo’s epic novel “Les
Misérables.” That, and listening to Fidel.
Fuelled by billions of dollars from the spike in oil prices, Chávez had
gained significant influence in recent years throughout the hemisphere,
forming close relationships with a number of emergent leftist regimes
that, in some cases, he also subsidized and helped mold, in Bolivia,
Argentina, and Ecuador, and with Nicaragua, once again led by the old
Sandinista leader Daniel Ortega. He also formed a trade bloc, called ALBA,
aimed at countering American economic hegemony in the region. He
predicted a waning of U.S. influence and a chance, after all, for a
revival of Bolívar’s grand vision. In a sense, Chávez was right. U.S.
influence has waned over the past decade or so in Latin America; his
timing was good. But in the region, it was not Venezuela but Brazil,
finally emergent from its slumber as a regional economic and political
powerhouse, that began to fill that vacuum. Brazil’s last leader, Lula,
who was also a left-wing populist, also made “the people” and poverty
alleviation a priority of his Administration, and, with a better
management team and without all the polarizing confrontation with the imperio,
he succeeded to an impressive degree. In Venezuela, by contrast,
Chávez’s revolution suffered from mediocre administrators, ineptitude,
and a lack of follow-through.
What is left, instead, after Chávez? A gaping hole for the millions of
Venezuelans and other Latin Americans, mostly poor, who viewed him as a
hero and a patron, someone who “cared” for them in a way that no
political leader in Latin America in recent memory ever had. For them,
now, there will be a despair and an anxiety that there really will be no
one else like him to come along, not with as big a heart and as radical
a spirit, for the foreseeable future. And they are probably right. But
it’s also Chávism that has not yet delivered. Chávez’s anointed
successor, Maduro, will undoubtedly try to carry on the revolution, but
the country’s untended economic and social ills are mounting, and it
seems likely that, in the not so distant future, any Venezuelan despair
about their leader’s loss will extend to the unfinished revolution he
left behind.
At the tail end of a trip that Fidel and Chávez took together in 2006, Castro fell ill with diverticulitis and nearly died, leading him to resign from Cuba’s Presidency a year and a half later and hand over power to his younger brother Raúl. I was on Chávez’s plane when he flew to Cuba, in early 2008, to congratulate Raúl. In Havana, Chávez vanished, off to visit Fidel, who was still sick and in seclusion. On the flight back the next day, Chávez reported happily to all of us aboard his plane, “Fidel is just fine.” He added, “Fidel asked me to say hello to all of you for him!” Five years later, the Castros, both octogenarians, are alive, and it is Chávez who has passed from the scene.
■ 차베스 집권 14년의 명암 [경향신문 2013.3.6]
차베스는 집권 14년간 석유를 무기로 국내적으로 사회주의적 개혁조치를 취했고 국제적 차원에서는 중남미
통합운동을 벌였다. 19세기 베네수엘라의 혁명가 시몬 볼리바르의 범아메리카주의와 페루의 후안 벨라스코 알바라도 대통령 같은
사회주의 지도자들의 정책을 계승한 것이다. 자본자유화, 탈규제, 민영화라는 신자유주의에 맞선 차베스의 정책들은 베네수엘라와 그
너머의 세계에 적지 않은 영향을 미쳤다.
■‘미션의 나라’
차베스의 베네수엘라는 ‘미션의 나라’였다. “예수는 혁명가”라고 말한 그는 선교사의 열정으로 베네수엘라를 바꾸자고 말하곤 했다. 그가 주도한 일련의 사회복지 프로그램에는 ‘미시온(misssion·선교)’이라는 이름이
붙었다. 베네수엘라 석유와 쿠바 의료의 맞교환에 의한 무료 의료 사업은 ‘미시온 바리오 아덴트로’라 불렸다. 공교육 투자를 대폭
늘려 무상교육을 확대했다. 문맹퇴치를 위한 ‘미시온 로빈손’, 무상 고등 교육인 ‘미시온 리바스’ 등이 그것이다. 개인이나
기업에 속한 유휴 농지를 시장가격에 사들여 경작 농민에게 제공하는 ‘미시온 사모라’도 시행했다.
‘미시온’을 위한 재원은 석유에서 나왔다. 차베스는 1958년 ‘푼토피호’ 협약이후 40년간 지속된 민주행동당과 기독사회당의
보수양당체제를 끝내고 이들이 독식하던 석유 수입을 빈민층과 중하층으로 돌렸다. 국내총생산의 1/3과 정부 수입의 절반을 차지하는
국영석유공사(PDVSA)가 그 중심이다. 국영석유공사(PDVSA)의 ‘폰데스빠’라는 기금이 각종 사회개혁 프로그램의 재정을
지원한다.
차베스의 ‘미시온’은 베네수엘라의 빈곤율을 낮추는 데 크게 기여했다. 세계은행 통계에 따르면 베네수엘라의 빈곤율은 2003년
62.1%에서 2007년 33.6%로 줄었고 2011년 31.9%에서 안정화되었다. 1인당 국민총소득은 2003년 3482달러에서
2011년 1만2000달러로 증가했다. 같은 기간 중남미 개도국들의 1인당 국민총소득이 3470달러에서 8574달러로 상승한
것에 비하면 좋은 성적을 거뒀다.
■‘신사회주의’의 명암
차베스의 개혁조치들은 ‘신사회주의 운동’으로도 불린다. 빈곤퇴치와 동시에 평등하고 민주적이며 연대의 정신에 기반한 사회를 만드는 것이 목적이다. 생산수단의 공동 소유, 민주적이고 자주적인 운영, 친환경적
개발 등의 방향이 제시됐다. 그의 개혁입법은 비록 3일 천하로 끝났지만 반차베스 쿠데타를 일으킬만큼 기득권층의 거센 반발을
낳았다. 반대자들은 그를 독재자로 묘사한다. 서울대 라틴아메리카연구소 김달관 교수는 “독재자라는 말은 우파 기득권 세력의
라벨붙이기”라며 “누구의 독재인지는 모르지만 적어도 그 사회에서 배제되고 타자화된 사람들을 위한 것이라면 의미가 있다”고 말했다.
차베스에 우호적인 좌파진영에서도 양극화를 순화시키고 천연 자원에 대한 주권을 강화한 것은 높이 평가하면서도 “완전히 한 사람에게 봉사하는, 너무 강력한 국가주의”에는 경계하는 목소리가
나온다. “차베스가 결정하고, 차베스가 발표”하면서 차베스 이외의 대안적 리더십이 자라날 공간도 공동의 토론공간도 없다는 비판이
나온다. 정치적 양극화도 문제다. 차베스 지지층이 결집하며 이룬 대대적인 사회개혁은 그에 못지않게 반대세력도 결집시켰다.
2006년 선거부터 60/40, 49/51, 55/45 식의 대립 양상이 나타나고 있다.
석유에 의존하는 한 차베스의 ‘신사회주의 혁명’이 지속하기는 어렵다. 그럼에도 그의 ‘신사회주의’는 자본주의가 아닌 다른 방식으로
세상을 바꿀 수 있음을 제시했다는 의의가 있다. 김 교수는 “브라질의 룰라가 자본주의가 계속된다는 관점에서 자본주의의 전반적인
효율성을 높이는 방향으로 정책을 폈다면 차베스의 베네수엘라는 자본주의가 끝난다고 보고 ‘신사회주의’라는 사회주의적 방식으로,
에콰도르나 볼리비아는 1492년 스페인 정복전 원주민들의 방식대로 공동체 중심으로 살아가는 방식을 제시했다”고 설명했다.
■반미주의와 중남미 통합
차베스는 집권 이후 줄곧 반미 외교를 폈다. 자신의 집권 14년을 ‘볼리바리안 혁명’으로 부른 것도 스페인의 지배하에 있던 남미를
해방시키고 라틴아메리카 통합을 시도했던 시몬 볼리바르처럼 중남미를 자신의 뒷마당쯤으로 여기며 정치·경제적으로 개입해왔던 미국에
맞서 중남미가 단결해야 진정한 혁명을 이룰 수 있다고 봤기 때문이다. 반미는 극복할 대상과 세력이 누구인지 명확하게 보여줘
내부적인 통합과 응집력을 높이는 수단이기도 했다.
차베스는 석유를 이용해 중남미의 정치적 통합을 시도했다. ‘봉이 김선달’식의 외교였다. 2006년 국유화 조치로 서방 석유사들이 내는 로열티와 법인세를 올려 국가재정을 확충했다. 이미 2000년부터 OPEC과 협력해 석유 감산에 나서 유가를 높여왔기 때문에 추가된 비용에도 이득을 남길 수 있었던 서방 석유사들은 차베스의 조치를 받아들였다. 2005년에는 카리브해 석유동맹인 ‘페트로카리브(Petrocaribe)’를 출범시켰다. 석유를 시장가격보다 낮게 공급해 가난한 수입국들의 환영을 받았다.
그의 중남미 통합운동의 실질적인 성과는 크지 않았지만 중남미가 뭉쳐야 한다는 공감대를 형성하는 데는 일정한 영향을 미쳤다.
차베스는 ‘볼리바리안 혁명’을 완수하지 못하고 숨을 거뒀다. 그의 ‘혁명’이 지속될지 미완에 그칠지는 그간의 사회개혁 조치들과
이를 지지하는 세력들이 얼마만큼 뿌리를 내렸느냐에 달렸을 것으로 보인다.
