Who will match the Maximum Leader?

The significance of Hugo Chavez, whose death is being mourned in Venezuela and in much of Latin America, is that with his great showmanship and populism, he kept alive a narrative in an age dominated by the capitalist credo. That he had his country’s enormous oil wealth to pursue his socialist pro-poor policies at home and elsewhere in Latin America was a given, but he tapped into not only the continent’s anti-American legacy given the traditional US’ role but also sought to elevate his creed into a sustainable policy by trying to bring about a new political combination.
Chavez had understandably formed a special relationship with Cuba, given Fidel Castro’s spectacular role in fighting the all-embracing American influence. What is more, he proved to be the economic saviour of Cuba after Moscow halted its long-standing aid and subsidies on the breakup of the Soviet Union. In ideological terms, Chavez considered Fidel his mentor, and it was understandable that when he was diagnosed as being afflicted with cancer, he chose Cuba to undergo periodic treatment. Presumably, he was sent home in the final stage of the disease.
In recent years, Latin America has thrown up a number of leaders espousing socialist ideology and an anti-American tinge. Each of these leaders has been influenced by Chavez and his populist but effective rhetoric. Even countries such as Chile and Argentina, which have followed a somewhat different path, have valued to different degrees the path taken by Chavez.
It is, of course, open to question whether all the money Chavez used from the oil wells that were nationalised to subsidise Cuba in a kind of barter deal — oil for doctors and health workers — could not have been better spent. It is also debatable whether the Commandate’s programme to help the poor in his country by giving them homes and subsidies could not have been executed more efficiently. But the Maximum Leader, as he was also known, did improve the lot of the poor in his country enormously.
What impact will the end of the Chavez era have on his country and Latin America? His chosen successor, Nicolas Maduro, simply cannot match his mentor’s expansive personality and charisma in ruling the country, although polls suggest that he will in all likelihood win the election, which must be held in 30 days, on Chavez’s emotional appeal. He is projected as his ruling party’s candidate. Significantly, two US Air Force attachés have been thrown out of Venezuela on the suspicion that they were seeking to influence the outcome of the election. But more and more Venezuelans will look askance at Caracas’ generosity towards Cuba, rather than employing the oil wealth for the country’s good. The Opposition’s candidate, Henrique Capriles Radonski, lost to Chavez the last time.
Fidel Castro is now leading a retired life and his brother Raul has announced that after his present new term, he would not be contesting again. There are other figures in the continent who have been enthusiastic supporters of Chavez and his policies. Rafael Correa of Ecuador, whose embassy in London is still sheltering the WikiLeaks founder, Julian Assange, and Evo Morales of Bolivia. But they are leaders who relied on Chavez and are too weak to be major factors of influence in the continent.
In a sense, Latin America is now facing a great geopolitical challenge. The days of the Banana Republics were over some time ago, but the Chavez phenomenon tapped into an elemental feeling in the continent anti-American in its nature but also redolent of the virtues of the old Communism embodied for many decades in the Soviet Union. For those espousing the Chavez narrative — they include the vast majority of the poor and less well-off — a variation of Communism remains attractive. Argentina, however, has veered between the capitalist and populist varieties of economic policies and Chile has made progress along its path of capitalism with a human face. But even for these two countries, the Chavez hurricane was a fact of life. Besides, it is significant that Moduro and others are suggesting that Chavez’s cancer was a capitalist conspiracy.
Even if Moduro wins the presidential election, the battle for Latin America’s soul will be far from over. First, it was Fidel Castro who lit the flame of the revolution and successfully resisted American power. His baton was grasped by Chavez who set about spreading and supporting his brand of socialist revolution. What emerges from post-Chavez Venezuela remains to be seen, but Raul Castro, immersed in his own country’s problems and transition accentuated by Chavez’s death, seems an unlikely successor to Chavez.
In immediate terms, the concern of the Left in Latin America will be that there is no one who can effectively perform Chavez’s role in catalysing the continent along the path of socialism. The fear obviously is that the US will exploit this vacuum to project its policies towards a continent that still bears the footprints of an essentially colonial relationship. The US did not colonise Latin America in the conventional sense. Rather, it achieved its objective by letting American private enterprise run many of the countries in the hemisphere.
The long-term legacy of Chavez, the champion of the Bolivar Revolution as he termed it after his old hero, remains in doubt. There is no comparable galvanising figure to fire the continent’s imagination as the leader of a country with the resources to spread his bounty around. We are thus facing a period of confusion in which both the leftist forces and those with pro-US inclinations will seek to take advantage of the death of a 58-year-old paratrooper who won successive elections on the strength of his pro-poor policies and his charisma. An attempt by armed forces elements to topple Chavez lasted days before masses of demonstrating Venezuelans crowded the capital’s streets to return him to power.
For many Venezuelans and fellow Latin Americans, their grief at Chavez’s passing away is genuine. He was an icon, a father figure despite his age, and a revolutionary rolled into one. And in many peoples’ imagination, he lives on.