Tag: Caracas

Macuto Sheraton

Richard Barnes

That name likely means little to most, if not all, readers. But for many who lived or worked in Venezuela in the mid-20th Century that name brings a flood of memories to both children and adults.

In brief, after the Caracas-La Güira Expressway was inaugurated in the early 50s, enabling better access not only to the international airport but also to the spectacular beaches north of Caracas, entrepreneurs saw the potential for a 5-Star hotel/resort. This project was launched and successfully completed in 1957; however, January of the following year brought the coup overthrowing the Pérez Jimenez regime and the ensuing upheavals and political posturing delayed the inauguration, including the determination of just who would administer the property.

Finally, in 1963, after a bidding process, Sheraton Hotels was awarded the property on a royalty-type basis. This was the first Sheraton hotel in Latin America and the Caribbean.

Up to that point, most international travelers would spend the night in one of the Caracas hotels, such as El Conde or the Hotel Tamanaco before leaving early the next morning for the 30-minute drive (before the expressway was built it took about an hour) to catch a flight from Maiquetía.

The Macuto Sheraton was a leisurely 20 minute littoral drive from the airport. It rapidly became the preferred spot not only for Americans (and international flight crews) but for Venezuelans on either an overnight stop during travels, a weekend get-away, or a family vacation. The Spanish Meliá chain had built a major hotel near the Macuto Sheraton in the early 90s. The competition had energized both hotels and both operated successfully during the 90s.

In 1999 the catastrophic Vargas cataclysm hit the area. The Macuto Sheraton was not greatly damaged (nor was the Meliá) and it rapidly converted to a shelter for the thousands left homeless. Although the victims were eventually re-housed away from the hotel, the cost of repairs and refurbishing added to the immensely aggravated political and regulatory environment brought on by the Chávez regime eventuated in Sheraton’s decision to cede the property and its administration to the Venezuelan state. However, the property itself was mostly intact at the time.

Despite promises and assurances of converting the property along with the neighboring Meliá Hotel into a major 6-star resort, such visions remained as ephemeral as the utopian dreams of Socialists everywhere. 

Our family stayed in the Macuto Sheraton during a trip to Venezuela in 1994 when we had four children, the youngest being about a year old, and we can attest that it was still a great family friendly, bustling property. 

If the 1999 Vargas tragedy nevertheless left room for hope of an eventual restoration, the 2026 earthquakes put the kibosh on such. The materialization of the Macuto Sheraton and Meliá under whatever names the Venezuelan regime might favor is now out of the question. At least for my lifetime.

(This area of Venezuela has had two name changes since my childhood. It used to be known as the Central Littoral, a section of Caracas to the north, on the coast, where the major airport and seaport are. In 1998, the area was turned into Vargas state, named after Venezuela’s first civilian president, elected in the early 19th Century. In 2019 the name was changed once again, this time to La Guaira, the country’s largest seaport. So when reading Litoral Central or Vargas (such as when discussing the terrible mountain slides of 1999), or La Guaira (such as when reading reports of the earthquakes last month, they are the same area.)

Last week I was in a tiny Caribbean coastal town where one shoreline reminded me of my childhood on the coast along the Macuto Sheraton, even to a leaning palm tree silhouetted against the gentle sea at dusk. And that sight brought the above thoughts to mind.

And such thoughts in turn brought to my memory a trip I took to Venezuela when I was in my mid-teens. Having departed late from Miami, the flight arrived at Maiquetía (Caracas’s airport) late at night. An elderly, American gentleman and I found ourselves, with our baggage, waiting for a taxi. When one finally arrived, he asked me where I was headed, “Macuto Sheraton,” I replied.

“Well, that’s where I am going so would you like to share the taxi ride? There don’t seem to be many taxis tonight.”

We agreed to board the same taxi and we headed to the hotel.

Having paid the fare we approached the front desk. The American spoke Spanish although with a bit of difficulty and he did not notice that the hotel clerk was assuming that he and I were father and son. 

So I spoke to the clerk directly to advise that he was to check in the gentleman separately and then he was to take care of me. If he would check the hotel reservations he would see that our names were different. I explained this to the gentleman and he was surprised at the confusion since he thought he had clearly told the clerk the same thing!

We eventually got checked in and bid our farewells, never to see each other again.

On another occasion, also in my teens, I arrived with limited funds, having determined to surprise my family. I walked up to the hotel desk letting them know that I only had enough money to pay for a taxi to return to the airport the following morning. 

But I offered them my watch and assured them that my father would arrange to have the Bethlehem Steel pay for my night and my father would reimburse the company. The young men behind the desk were a bit taken aback but after checking with their manager, they accepted my watch and gave me a key.

I arrived in El Pao the next afternoon to the great shock and surprise of all. My father arranged for the company to get my watch and pay the hotel on his behalf which he of course reimbursed. 

There was at least one other time where I arrived late, with little money. On that occasion, the taxi driver would not take me to the Sheraton because I had told him how much I had and he and I calculated it was enough to go a certain distance, pay the absolute minimum for an accommodation and pay the fare (discounted!) to the airport the next day. 

So he took me to a very dilapidated, shady looking joint and spoke to the clerk on my behalf. I paid the lodging, went to my room, placed my luggage against the door, and went to sleep. The next morning, as promised, the cab driver came right on time and took me to the airport. 

“I am sorry you had to stay in that place, but it was safer than to have stayed on the street or at the airport,” he said.

“Oh, no problem at all. On the contrary, I thank you for taking care of me,” I replied. He had truly been very kind.

Although, at first glance, it seems to be the case that times were different in those days, that is actually not true. 

It was that the people saw themselves as responsible first to God and second to one another. In other words, it’s not the times that change, it’s whom people see as their gods. If we see ourselves as completely autonomous beings — our own little gods — or as products of blind forces of chaos, we feel no moral obligation to anyone. If, however, we see ourselves as responsible to our Creator, we will be kind to our neighbors, who are made in the image of our Creator to Whom we will one day give account.

The Macuto Sheraton is now gone. As, very likely, are that elderly American gentleman and the cab driver. The clerks may still be around. As am I. We’ve seen and lived among people who remember Whose image we bear. And we’ve seen and lived among people who forget Whose image we bear.

And we agree on this: the former is better.

“Thus saith the Lord, Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. But they said, We will not walk therein [Jer. 6:16].”

The Macuto Sheraton, circa 1975

View from a room circa 1967

A few short years after Sheraton bowed out and the property was officially expropriated in 2002

The below YouTube video is in Spanish but is a good birds eye view of the Macuto Sheraton’s history.

The rise and fall of the Macuto Sheraton: the hotel that marked the Venezuelan coast.

Venezuela Earthquakes — June, 24, 2026

Richard Barnes

Two powerful earthquakes shook northern Venezuela this past Wednesday, causing severe damage and loss of life especially in La Guaira, Caracas, and the surrounding areas. Relatives and friends tell me the tremors were felt as far away as Ciudad Guayana, though no damage was reported there.

Many people are still refusing to return to their homes out of fear.

Churches are in prayer and ready to provide aid. We are grateful for the relief efforts being organized in the United States, El Salvador, and other countries across the Americas, as well as in Qatar. More on these efforts further below.

A terrible earthquake struck Caracas in 1967; it had a magnitude of 6.8 and caused severe damage, resulting in around 300 deaths. This week’s quakes were of far greater magnitude, and the damage, exponential given that Venezuela’s infrastructure has not been modernized in many decades.

We have been able to get confirmation from friends and family in the Ciudad Guayana, El Pao, and Caracas environs that they are well or have been rescued. I am sorry to say that others do not have such encouraging news.

It is difficult to watch, hear, or read about people buried beneath tons of rubble whose voices can still be heard but who, despite many willing hands, cannot be rescued for lack of proper machinery and technology. Not to mention the many cases of children and babies rescued but whose parents and relatives are unknown or lost.

Perhaps more difficult is to once again be reminded of the absolute pitilessness of atheistic Communism / Socialism.

The last two or three generations of American schoolchildren have no idea of the evil, wicked nature of atheistic systems of government, especially those spawned in modern times since the French Revolution. For example, see Bands of Robbers II for a quick summary of the deleterious impact of forsaking and even denouncing our rich Christian heritage, which is what our betters, meaning our educators and lecturers, have been busy doing for over a century now.

How does this solipsistic philosophy — for it is concerned not for the well-being of others, but rather for oneself and power and control over others, even to the point of death — manifest itself in a calamity such as has befallen Venezuela this week?

We are seeing and hearing reports from reputable sources that the Venezuelan dictatorship has been closing donation centers and demanding that such have “official authorization” from the Communist government. Without such authorization from the Communists, the people of Venezuela can neither donate nor receive donations. 

This is what is to be expected from a hellish ideology that demands total submission to the atheistic state.

Furthermore, we are hearing complaints from various parts of the country indicating that government officials are blocking the entry of trucks and moving equipment that desperate Venezuelan citizens — in great self-sacrifice — are procuring and convoying to the affected zones where are thousands of people, including children, desperate for help and rescue. 

Thank the Lord, aid shipments have finally arrived from other countries such as El Salvador, Mexico, Ecuador, Colombia, and the United States. The positive aspect of this—beyond the assistance itself—is that it will be more difficult for the communist government to obstruct or block this aid, given that the “eyes of the world” are upon them and they do not wish to face further embarrassment.

We must understand that the very countries the communists in power in Venezuela praised most—such as China and Cuba—have not lifted a finger nor offered any assistance. Conversely, the countries that such Venezuelan communism attacked the most—such as the United States, El Salvador, and Colombia—are the ones stepping up with their voices, labor, and equipment.

Finally, we must emphasize that when the “Vargas tragedy” struck in December 1999, the Hugo Chávez communist government refused all aid offered by the United States. Days of rain triggered massive landslides that destroyed or completely buried—or swept out to sea—countless people and entire towns. U.S. aid was rejected because Hugo Chávez—in line with his good friend Fidel Castro—considered maintaining a revolutionary stance more important than saving lives. Many children were handed over to the authorities by desperate parents. What became of them? The question remains unanswered twenty-seven years later.

Furthermore, the housing structures the Chávez/Maduro communist government “built” to replace a mere fraction of what was lost were thrown together haphazardly. And, unsurprisingly, most of them did not withstand this week’s earthquakes.

I hope we have learned enough from the Vargas tragedy to at least focus on truly rescuing the children lost in this week’s earthquakes and not simply trust government agents to take care of them.

Communism is atheism, atheism is a lie, and a lie cannot endure. Nor can it do lasting good to anyone. On the contrary, ever since the Lie in the Garden of Eden, we can rest assured that lies result in death.

Pray for Venezuela.

Image of one of countless structure collapsed during and after this week’s earthquakes in Venezuela.
One of many damaged buildings in La Guaira, Venezuela
Patients evacuated from a heavily damaged hospital in La Guaira (AP)
Mother weeps for two daughters killed in her collapsed apartment in La Guaira (AP)
Aftermath of the “Vargas Tragedy” of December, 1999. The inset is a video grab of a father buried up to his neck who asked the rescuers to leave him there. He held his two daughters’ hands beneath the mud and would not let go. He was finally persuaded to allow himself to be rescued.

Caracas To Washington On Foot: 1935-1937

Richard Barnes

“Sleeping high in a tree, they awoke to scratching sounds, as if a large animal were climbing the tree. Frightened and unable to move, they fired their weapons, and almost immediately the sound stopped. They remember spending that night awake, thinking some jungle animal was stalking them, and at dawn they saw the body of a jaguar at the base of the tree.” — Rafael Petit and Juan Carmona

A childhood friend alerted me to a FB post by Luis Waldemar Salazar recognizing the epic feat of two young men in the early part of the 20th Century. I was overwhelmed by what that short post narrated and told my friend that I would seek to confirm and, if true, I’d post about it in my blog, with proper attribution.

Well, it was not difficult to confirm as the internet has several links about this odyssey, easily translated to English. In addition, in the first decade of this century, the late Alberto Álvarez published a book about this event: “La extraordinaria hazaña de Petit y Carmona [The Extraordinary Feat of Petit and Carmona]”; however, the book is not available in Amazon or eBay and although I did find it in a bookstore in Uruguay, I finally desisted in acquiring it after several rebuffs.

Reading the several accounts and watching a brief documentary has left me in awe in the face of the determination and goodwill of these men and the utter selflessness they reflect. For example, the quote above is actually only by Petit, as Carmona had already crossed that jungle alone and, unknown to Petit, was close to losing his leg to gangrene in a Panamanian hospital. The jaguar encounter was Petit’s alone. At least on that occasion. However, during his time alone (over a month) every time he wrote a letter or made entries in his journal, he always used the plural pronoun to recognize his friend. In honor of that trait, I attributed the quote to both of them. Petit would have wanted it that way.

The original team was composed of three young men: the aforementioned two plus Jaime Roll. They embodied the cosmopolitan character of the Venezuela I remember from my childhood as Petit was Venezuelan but Carmona was a Spaniard and Roll, a Lebanese.

It appears the one who promoted this idea was Roll, almost immediately joined by Carmona. The two of them met Petit after the latter had won an 800 meter race in Caracas in 1934. Petit was known for having walked a route of about 900 miles from Maracaibo to Caracas along with two or three others (the accounts differ).

The three were members of the Boy Scouts International and desired to promote scouting in Venezuela but also to promote the recognition of Venezuela scouting abroad. They therefore decided to walk to the first Boy Scouts Jamboree to be held in Washington, D.C., in June, 1937.

With this objective having been determined, the three set off from Caracas on a cold morning on January 11, 1935.

By the time they arrived at the Simón Bolívar International Bridge which crosses the Táchira River between Colombia and Venezuela, there was trouble in the camp. They had walked 79 days and had developed some animosities and, perhaps, rivalries.

Juan Carmona separated and headed towards Bogotá alone, being the first to arrive there, the 12th of May, 1935. By the time the other two reached the capital, Carmona had already headed towards Panama. Alone. Meaning, he was determined to traverse the impassable jungles of El Chocó, now better known as Darién, alone.

In Bogotá, Jaime Roll, who had been named Expedition Chief, abandoned the quest and returned alone to Venezuela. I could not find anything else about him or his life; he seems to have fallen off the map shortly after that departure.

That left Rafael Petit alone in Bogotá. He wrote his commander in Venezuela seeking instructions. The reply was to return to Venezuela. Petit was not about to do that (which makes me wonder why he wrote in the first place!).

However, his reply is instructive as it gives us a portrait of this young man’s determination:

Until now, your advice and orders have been followed to the letter. But on this occasion, the situation is different. At stake is not only my honor, but also that of my family, my country for which I wish to achieve sporting glory, and the Boy Scouts of Venezuela, which, along with the Association of Sports Journalists of Caracas, has placed its trust in me. Therefore, if I die in this audacious undertaking, I will die willingly. Better to die with honor than to live in dishonor.

Both Carmona and Petit, with no money, and little supplies, headed alone into a jungle whose canopy’s shade creates a never-ending penumbra, like a dark cathedral, which receives about 9,000 inches of rain annually, creating miles of swamp and mud and quicksands. Not to mention the dangerous wildlife, including poisonous reptiles and stalking jaguars. That swath of jungle was one of the most hostile territories of the continent. It was forbidding even for experienced explorers. I pause in admiration as I write this.

Petit headed there about 15 days after Carmona, knowing he had to sleep high up in trees for safety and had to be alert to predators during the day as he trudged on and on and on. After numerous mishaps, including being utterly lost, he made it to Colón, Panama, at the end of August, 1935. While there he heard disquieting news: a young man had emerged from the Darién Jungle gravely ill with an infection provoked by a worm bite and the indications were that he would lose his leg. 

Petit rushed to the St. Thomas Hospital, knowing that young man had to be Carmona. It was.

They renewed their pact to walk to Washington or die trying. Carmona recovered and they continued their trek.

They walked into San José, the Costa Rican capital at 8 P.M. one night shortly before Christmas and were treated with great care and empathy. Petit came down with a severe case of malaria which delayed their onward march until March 15, 1936, when they proceeded north.

They were received by the president of Nicaragua in Managua three days later. The president provided some economic assistance which was an encouragement to the young men.

Honduras was undergoing a coup and both Carmona and Petit were arrested, their explanations being ignored and their identifications and travel documents being unread as the soldiers were illiterate. After a few days the man in charge arrived, read the documents, and released them.

Their memories of Mexico were positive overall, although they also suffered some mishaps there as well. However, what they very much appreciated was the official hospitality in Mexico City where both Boy Scout executives and government officials were solicitous towards them and admired their determination. They were official guests in Mexico City for a month of much needed rest and recovery.

Having set foot to large areas of Venezuela and having traversed Colombia, Panamá, Costa Rica, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Mexico, they finally crossed the Rio Grande from Mexico to Laredo, Texas, on the 27th of January, 1937. However, incredibly, their documents were not in order and they had to return, first to Monterrey and eventually to the Venezuelan embassy in Mexico City where the issues were resolved and they returned to Laredo.

They told of the wonderful roads in the United States which enabled them to cover plenty of ground each day. Among other events, they were greeted and feted by the governor of Texas. 

In Texas they bought a small wagon which they refurbished to facilitate the carrying of their supplies. They pulled that wagon all the way to their destination.

They set foot in Washington, D.C. the 16th of June, 1937, two years and five months after having left Caracas that cold winter day. Their feat was heralded by the Washington Post, “Venezuelan Boy Scouts Arrive in Washington After a 9,000 Mile Walk….”

They were received by the Venezuelan ambassador to the United States to whom the young men gave the Venezuelan flag, having carried it all those hard miles.

On the 30th, at the First National Boy Scouts Jamboree at the National Mall, over 27,000 scouts participated. Petit and Carmona were celebrated as living symbols of the Boy Scouts spirit. They were the only scouts who had walked to that major event. So impressive was their adventure that the president, Franklin D. Roosevelt, greeted them personally.

Pan American Airways ensured they did not have to walk back, but flew them via Mexico, Cuba, and Puerto Rico, back to Venezuela.

Someone somewhere wrote that he could not understand how this has not been made into a movie. I agree. 

Later on, Carmona explored large areas of Guayana, Venezuela, before moving to Chile, where folks lost track of him.

Petit stayed in Venezuela working to promote sports and scouting. He had almost completed a book-length manuscript of their adventures for publishing; however, sadly, it was either stolen or somehow lost, which saddened him deeply. He died prematurely at the age of 51 in Caracas.

Several extracts of the book are available including the following from his introduction:

A daring and risky journey on foot from Caracas, the capital of Venezuela, to Washington, D.C., the capital of the United States. Twenty months and five days to unite the three Americas by walking.

At the Jamboree, they greeted the amazed crowds, concluding their remarks thusly:

We, Rafael Ángel Petit and Juan Carmona, Boy Scouts from Venezuela, have walked ten thousand miles to greet you in brotherhood, to give you a round of applause in the spirit of Scout brotherhood. No jungle is impassable, no river wide or mountain high enough, no illness, thirst, or hunger can stop us from achieving the goals of citizenship and international brotherhood of the Scout Movement. All the Scouts we have met along the way join us in greeting you. We have worn out twelve pairs of boots to be with you at the first National Jamboree.

From Left: Jaime Roll, Rafael Petit, Juan Carmona, 1934, after Petit won his track event. 

Costa Rica, 1935

Pulling their wagon somewhere in the USA, 1937

In Washington D.C.

Rafael Petit and Juan Carmona

Motorcade 1958

Richard Barnes

The President of the United States, Dwight Eisenhower, had commissioned his vice president to embark on a “Goodwill Tour” of South America. This was public and widespread knowledge and a highly anticipated visit by the continent’s governments as well as the great majority of “common citizens” of South America, as became clear after the dust had settled and cooler heads had had an opportunity to investigate and do some independent research and interviews in later years.

But in 1958, the message to foment agitation was very similar throughout the countries he visited: the Yankee Imperialist has hired puppet regimes in [fill-in-the-country] for long enough! It is imperative for the communist parties, on behalf of “the people”, to stop any inroads the United States might make into Latin America.

In the case of Venezuela, such propaganda was especially effective, having recently overthrown the Perez Jimenez government. The agitators added incredible tales of torture and unending horrors, tying the United States to such. They also took the credit for the overthrow of Jimenez (and, thereby, the simultaneous defeat of the Imperialist Giant from the North), although he was in fact deposed by a left-wing military coup. Nevertheless, and more importantly, as all successful agitators, they were effective propagandists and knew how to “personalize” whatever they identified as the obstacles to their objectives.

There was much opposition to their dream of a Venezuelan Communist utopia – whether the conservative elements within Venezuela itself, or the inherent desire of a majority of Venezuelans to live in peace, with a measure of liberty, or the generally anti-communist foreign policy of the United States, etc.  But they easily personalized all of that, and more, in Richard Milhous Nixon.

Beginning with a trickle months before, and culminating in torrents of pamphlets, speeches, lectures, and harangues, the message was clear and consistent: 

[To] send the “truculent” vice president of the United States to this land is an “imperialist abuse” and evidence of their intention to continue running Venezuela via puppet regimes. Richard Nixon is the one who most pushed for “sword diplomacy” against the countries of South America, installing and maintaining dictators who governed and tortured at the Yanqui’sbeck and call; whose strings were pulled directly from the Yanqui embassies in the capitals of South America.

Richard Nixon wants to increase his filthy, blood-soaked riches by taking control over all our natural resources and to do so he will order the imprisonment, torture, exile, and execution of all who oppose such self-serving policies. Etc.

Clearly such crassly personalized propaganda would not move the great majority of Venezuelans or South Americans. But the objective was not to move the majority; only the dedicated, combative, and disciplined minority. In this, it succeeded. Wildly.

Nixon’s plane landed shortly after 11AM on Tuesday, May 13th, 1958.

As he and his wife came to the door of the Air Force prop plane, they were met with the requisite dignitaries and the usual security apparatus.

However, all that was overwhelmed by the jeering, shouting, blowing whistles and horns, and clanging steel. As the Nixons, whose security detail was no more than 12 secret service officers, walked to their waiting limousine they found themselves not only attacked by “death-to-Nixon” chants and banners and all manner of vulgar vituperations, whistles, and jeers, but also hit by trash and spittle. 

It was quite a sight. Professional agitators and organizers had bused down hundreds and had stationed most on the balcony above where the Nixons and the official party had to pass. So the American party had to walk towards those angry mobs wishing them ill and spitting on them and Mrs. Nixon. 

In the Cadillac limousine, the danger did not abate, but intensified, as the mob easily overwhelmed the minimal local police force and surrounded the car, hitting it with pipes and rods, and began to rock the car, seeking to overturn it and burn it, all the while loudly chanting “death to Nixon”. The secret service, did not once use their fists, but with open palms, even when injured, continued to move insistently between the attackers and the vice-president. Inside the car, one agent did pull his gun when windows were broken and it seemed the crowds would gain entrance.

Miraculously, though, the car was able to break through and then proceed towards the city, only to encounter blockades along the way. By then, the Venezuela military had sent a large flatbed truck which was used to clear blockades and allow passage to Caracas, where more rioters were ready for action; including a mob desecrating the Simon Bolivar pantheon. As witnesses wryly observed later, the “defenders of Venezuelan virtue did not mind desecrating their own flag that day, as they tore and destroyed it.”

Vice President Nixon was persuaded to cancel the scheduled wreath-laying ceremony at the tomb of Simón Bolívar, which cancellation was clearly not anticipated by the rioters. 

The behavior of the mobs was precisely as had been instructed and promoted by the omniscient leaders, who had not anticipated that the “truculent” vice-president would have actually acceded to cancelling the scheduled public ceremonies. As was ascertained later, this act short-circuited the preparations for further violence by the Juventud comunista, including the use of Molotov cocktails at the site.

Decades later, Allen Hansen, posted to the American embassy during this event, wrote: 

There was such a well-organized mob around the Pantheon, that it was decided on the spot the Nixon party would not stop there but would go directly to the American Ambassador’s residence. Well, they made it safely. Some felt concern, even, that the embassy residence might be attacked, but that was never a real likelihood. There was a question as to whether the VP should give a press conference; this he did, and he conducted himself with great dignity. He’s never been higher in my esteem than he was at that moment, speaking with such reserve and calm about it not being easy to see one’s wife being spit upon, and that kind of thing, but still statesmanlike in his reaction although he was obviously seething beneath it all. So I gained some respect for the political leadership of Richard M. Nixon that day.

A day later, upon arrival in Washington, D.C., the vice president and his wife were met by President Dwight Eisenhower and 15,000 well-wishers.

The events above took place over 65 years ago; however, the strategies and tactics used by the perpetrators ought to be familiar to us today. They continue to be used with varying degrees of success because we continue to refuse to see and teach the tie between godlessness, anarchy, and totalitarianism.

Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index

Richard Barnes

In the mid 1980s I had the privilege of working with the Gideon’s organization. Every Saturday, rain snow or shine, a group of us would meet for breakfast in downtown Kalamazoo, Michigan, to review assignments and plan the upcoming weeks. Although our conversations covered just about everything under the sun, I’d often hear these men, all of whom were older than I, express gratitude for God, family, and country. In that order.

However, they were also realistic enough to gently tamp down my younger-man’s exuberance about America. In my naiveté I still believed that, if one would scratch beneath the surface across the country, one would tap into a vast reservoir of appreciation for our roots, both colonial and early republic. By that I meant, surely, the great majority of Americans understood that the truths we regard as “self-evident” are so because of the religious tradition undergirding our beliefs and our very lives and that to reject that heritage would lead to tyranny and ruin. 

My colleagues would point to Scripture, which has plenty of examples of nations whose names now gather dust in forgotten manuscripts and unvisited libraries. Nations that knew the Triune God but did not honor him. The words of Daniel to Belshazzar come to mind. Even the nation of Israel was judged for her betrayal. Sadly, it is the nature of men and women to forget, to deny, to dishonor.

John Stuart Mill, the great relativistic thinker, assumed that Christian ethics are permanent and hence we can take them for granted. He provides yet another example proving that “great thinkers” are not often wise.

I recalled my friends from Kalamazoo when I read the 2022 Transparency International Corruptions Perceptions Index comments on Venezuela.

Venezuela’s foundations differed widely from colonial and early republic America. However, she did have a basis for understanding the source of her prosperity in the first half of the 20th Century, a time when she enjoyed high levels of economic freedom which produced an environment of numberless voluntary transactions and unprecedented years of well-being with high growth rates. In 1960, Venezuela’s per capita income, at 45% of the US per capita income, was the highest in South America while her growth rate was higher than even Germany’s. 

Her great economic success fueled the transition to democracy in 1959. However, her democratically elected officials immediately began to curtail her economic freedoms in favor of Socialistic policies which eventually led to contractions and, by the end of the century, ushered in an authoritarian Socialist regime that, like a protean, angry octopus, has its tentacles in every nook and cranny of Venezuelan’s lives. By 2013, even the Carter Center, albeit belatedly, acknowledged the Venezuelan “elections” to be a sham (my word, not theirs; I don’t have to be diplomatic). By then the damage was done and the fix was in, and continues to be in, to this day.

Oh, but there’s more.

Transparency International’s 2022 report ranks Venezuela as the most corrupt country in the Americas. That’s “most corrupt”, as in more corrupt than Haiti, Cuba, and Nicaragua. Her rulers are reliably accused of leading massive drug cartels and having extensive ties to major international criminal organizations. Incredibly, illegal businesses account for 21% of Venezuela’s GDP. And her mining, especially gold and diamonds, are controlled by criminal groups who, with impunity, extort, enslave, prostitute, and murder the inhabitants, mostly defenseless indigenous peoples. 

In other words, Socialists are grossly guilty of what they delight in accusing Capitalists and Christians (they purposefully interchange the two).

In my youth, I would often hear the older generation’s assurances that Venezuela would not go the way of Cuba or Allende’s Chile. That she understood very well that liberty created her prosperity. As for her dalliances with Socialistic policies since 1960, those were very limited and did were not slippery slopes. I wanted to believe such assurances, even though my own family history said otherwise. Cuba, where my father was born, was also an economic miracle which went the way of all flesh practically overnight. At the time I did not know enough to ask my elders what made Venezuela any different; what would keep her from doing likewise.

And I certainly was not aware of Venezuela’s deeply infiltrated military, in cahoots with Castro and determined to rule Venezuela in Communist fashion, tyranny and all.

Venezuela “understood” where her prosperity came from. However, she ditched it nonetheless. 

The United States appears to be doing the same, with even less excuse.

Mourning the death of a child. In addition to the griefs which are the common lot of all, these peoples have been abused, murdered, displaced, and enslaved. Countless have fled to unknown destinies in Brazil.

Mother and children in Brazil after fleeing criminal attacks in Venezuela’s mining arc.

Plaza Colon in Caracas, Venezuela, circa 1950

Caracas boy, circa 1950