A week before
December 4 elections to fill 167 seats in Venezuela's
single-chamber National Assembly, all major opposition political
parties pulled out of the running, handing candidates loyal to
president Hugo Chávez an uncontested victory.
While it may look
like a shot in the foot, opponents showed that the Chávez
regime is losing legitimacy. The appearance of being a police
state, with only slim support at the polls, could confound
Chávez's efforts to spread his authoritarian populism
elsewhere in Latin America and strengthen doubts among followers at
home.
Opponents said
they did not want to participate in what they feared would be a
rigged contest. Vice President José Vicente Rangel called
the move sour grapes on the part those who so far have failed to
ease the populist strongman's grip on government.
Pulling out,
opponents risked further isolation following a series of electoral
defeats in an acid climate where Chávez takes every
opportunity to bash them while shielding himself behind laws that
muzzle free speech and criminalize criticism of public
officials.
The National
Assembly, in which loyalists had a slight majority, will now belong
almost exclusively to Chavistas. Thus, the president and his
cronies will dominate all three branches of government.
Not that such an
outcome wouldn't have happened anyway. Four out of the five members
of the national electoral tribunal are Chávez partisans.
Before last year's recall referendum, the government purported to
naturalize hundreds of thousands of migrants in a process called
"Misión Identidad," thus padding the electoral rolls in its
favor.
Election officials
later rode around in military trucks registering voters in
pro-regime barrios and blocking registration in opposition
districts. Meanwhile, government workers who signed the recall
petition lost their jobs.
This year, bootleg
compact discs circulated in the streets containing, according to
reports, the national voter registry, each voter's recent history,
and the list of those who signed the petition for the 2004
referendum. The discs existence served as a warning to those who
might think about voting against the president's party.
Predictably,
monitors noted citizen fears that ballots would not be secret. Even
though the National Electoral Council (CNE) promised to discard
fingerprinting tied to the voting process, a name register and
other data could be combined to determine who selected whom.
There were other
irregularities. The Organization of American States (OAS)
complained that Chávez partisans used government resources
for campaign purposes. European Union observers noted that
government media denied access to opponents while private media,
though anti-Chávez, provided a platform for loyalist views.
Chávez monopolized the airwaves days before the vote with
materials he required every government and private station to
carry.
Monitors witnessed
members of state security forces in some voting stations while
pro-government campaign activities-including food distribution,
propaganda broadcast from loudspeakers on cars, and posters outside
voting tables touting pro-Chávez candidates-took place near
others, in violation of election rules. At some stations, workers
reportedly kept tables open beyond closing time, hoping that late
arrivals would raise the tally.
Despite government
efforts to mobilize loyalists, no more than 25 percent of the
electorate, or 3.6 million out of 14.3 million voters, bothered to
show. The result reveals shallow support for the president well
beneath his approval ratings that hover around 50 percent.
As observer
findings were released, Chávez branded them "lies" and
charged the OAS and European Union with "colluding against the
interests of the people and democracy." President of the current
National Assembly Nicolás Maduro was as just respectful:
"Those bureaucrats you see in the Hotel Tamanaco drinking whiskey
with the leaders of the opposition can write whatever they
like."
Both the OAS and
European Union presented recommendations to put Venezuela's
electoral system back on a democratic track: an independent and
professional electoral tribunal, an independent audit of the voter
registry, independent recounts of election results, stronger bans
against use of government resources to support incumbent parties'
campaigns, and dialogue with the opposition to improve confidence
in the electoral system.
None of these
reforms are likely to come about, however. President Chávez
didn't get this far by playing straight with competitors.
Nonetheless, waning confidence in elections could be taken as a
warning sign.
The last time
opposition candidates withdrew from Latin American elections, the
incumbent governments didn't last long. In 2000, Alejandro Toledo
pulled out of his runoff contest with President Alberto Fujimori.
Months later, Fujimori stood accused of corruption and resigned.
The same year, opposition parties and OAS observers declined to
participate in Haiti's presidential contest. Only 5 to 15 percent
of the electorate came out to return former president Jean-Bertrand
Aristide to office. His regime-supported by cronies and street
gangs-collapsed three years later.
This is not to say
that Chávez will lose his grip on government anytime soon.
He now has all three branches under his thumb and an army of Cuban
advisors to spy on his appointees. But his so-called Bolivarian
Revolution has been unable to solve unemployment, attack poverty,
provide better housing, or reduce crime. In fact, there is no
revolution.
Now absent
legitimacy, the nature of the Chávez regime becomes clear.
At home, Chávez will need increasing doses of force to
impose his agenda as his support base shrinks to a small hardcore.
And if they haven't already, Venezuela's neighbors may look
elsewhere for models to follow.
Stephen
Johnson is Senior Policy Analyst for Latin America in the
Douglas and Sarah Allison Center for Foreign Policy of the Kathryn
and Shelby Cullom Davis Institute for International Studies at The
Heritage Foundation.