Hacienda – The Pull Of The Land

Locusts

July 30, 2020July 30, 2020 Richard Barnes

I recently read a fascinating book, Vida de Hacienda en Venezuela (Hacienda Life in Venezuela), by José Rafael Lovera. The author performed meticulous research into the lives, customs, and mores of Venezuelans from the early days of her colonial era to the mid 20th century, when haciendas had largely disappeared (see the series on ranchitos, here, here, here, here, here, and here.). I found it to be an absorbing study.

A section of the book focuses on the wars, earthquakes, plagues, heartbreaks, and deaths that ravaged Venezuela. They were events which, added to the hard work, would seem to have made life unbearable, if not impossible.

As an example, this post addresses one of the many disasters that the haciendas, their owners, laborers, and slaves confronted for about a decade in the latter half of the 19th century. Locusts may be something we read about in the Bible, but it is a plague most of us know little about experientially.

The first extract is from a letter written by the English Baroness, Lady Annie Brassey, who made a brief visit to the port of La Guaira and Caracas in 1883 and who, on her way from the port to the capital, encountered a locust invasion. Let us see how she described this:

At each step, the landscape changed, till we finally came to an open space, sown with sugar cane, bananas, sweet potatoes, and other crops. Here we discovered the source of some extraordinary noises which, mixed with the far more harmonious birdsong, we had been hearing during our ascent. A vast cloud of locusts was fluttering, and, as is also done by the peoples of Chile and Peru — actually in all of South America where these plagues ravage the land — the inhabitants were beating drums, tin trays, pots, pans, and any other like objects they might have at hand, besides screaming and calling out and blowing horns and firing weapons, to drive away the swarms of these cruel devastators, whose brightly transparent wings trembled agitatedly in the sunlight reflected thereon, like silver snow caps.

As beautiful as it might be to see them so, the damage that these insects cause is terrible to behold. At that moment the traces of their visit were very obvious in the great banana leaves, reduced to their naked veins; the sugar canes and other crops slashed to the ground, and all trees stripped of their leaves, sprouts, and small branches.

Even the robust plantain … with her glossy yellow stalk and her scarlet flowers — like to an ancient galleon — were reduced to naked trunks and branches.

Elizabeth Gross, the wife of a German businessman, was in Venezuela in 1883 and 1896, and in a letter to her friend, told of her travel by mule back to the interior regions:

It was almost impenetrable, since the trees were very near to one another, covered with vines, parasitic plants, and others which hung picturesquely from them. The vegetation beneath the trees consisted of palms and other magnificent tropical plants, within and between which slid snakes, lizards, and perhaps also, towards the deeper interior, monkeys and tigers.

We observed as an interesting fact how the lower plants were covered with small, brown creatures, like grasshoppers. It was a depressing discovery, because as these grow and lift flight, they can travel as far as Maracaibo where, about seven years ago, they caused a total devastation.

[Mrs. Gross, now back in Maracaibo, writes her friend a few months later]….

… the locusts that we had seen in … the jungle are already here. A while ago I wanted to go shopping in the afternoon, with Mrs. Lüdert and her husband told us to not delay because it looked very dark over the lake [Lake Maracaibo], as if rain was threatening, even though we are not in the rainy season.

We had visited two stores when, suddenly, it became night and nothing could be seen. Clouds of locusts obscured the daylight. They came with such density that we had to defend ourselves with our umbrellas in order to advance. It was somewhat disgusting how these frightful critters slapped against our faces. They demolished absolutely everything.

After a half hour, the beautiful coconut trees had become brooms. The locusts had devoured all the greenery in the gardens. Despite our having closed all shutters and windows, two men had to dedicate three hours to kill the locusts which had slipped into our house. They got into everything: in closets, in the seat backs, and in the smallest corners. Five of them penetrated through my mosquito screen and were on my bed in the morning. They had also begun to eat the socks that were on the chair in front of my bed, as also the hairdresser cushion. They eat everything that has any starch whatsoever. They got into my dresses.

It was something truly disgusting. When it becomes dark, they fall where they are, thereby dirtying our roof. Tens of thousands of them were swimming on the lake….

The repulsive spectacle described by Mrs. Gross during her stay in Maracaibo was seen across other cities in Venezuela. We’ll conclude by citing a French traveler in Caracas in 1886. He writes of resting near a window of Hotel St. Amand where he was residing:

Suddenly, an infernal noise compels us to rush outside. Gunshots sound from all sides. In this country of endless revolutions, were we about to witness yet another? No, we see a cloud of locusts. It comes bleakly, threateningly, darkening the daylight, and stinking the air.

Everyone immediately arms himself. Some with wire plates, others with iron pots or cauldrons, or whatever might be at hand, metal or not, to make the most noise as possible. They also fire weapons into the air, they light fires everywhere and all this is done to somehow prevent the cloud from falling over Caracas.

For more than two hours this cloud has overflown the city which is submerged in a grey darkness. The amount of locusts was such that, the cloud having passed, there were three centimeters of excrements on the streets. In certain points outside the city, where the tail of cloud fell, we have walked over a thickness of two to three centimeters of dead locusts.

In a twinkling of an eye, the yellow ground has turned black. We could hear a horrible crunching sound of insects as they moved their jaws. All vegetation had disappeared in a few minutes. Not even a leaf remained on the trees. The branches bent down under the weight of the mass of insects. It was a lamentable spectacle, a ravaging even worse than our hail.

Such eloquent descriptions require no further commentary. They transmit the horror that the inhabitants of major cities fought against and the ravages that the numerous conucos, small farms, and haciendas endured. The losses were immense.

The United States has also had its share of this plague in the mid 19th century, perhaps the most (in)famous being the Rocky Mountain Locust Invasion of 1874 of which Laura Ingalls Wilder would write in terms similar to those used by the travelers cited above, including descriptions of the critters invading the houses and the horrible sound of “millions of jaws biting and chewing….”

And the desperate defense measures taken by the Americans mirrored those of the Venezuelans, including fires, shotgun blasts, and beating of metal plates or anything that would make noise.

As Job tells us, “Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward.” So, Venezuelans and Americans, like folks around the world have done throughout history, arose, shook the pests and dust off, and carried on.

Plaza Baralt, Maracaibo, Venezuela, mid-19th century

Plaza Mayor in Caracas, mid-19th century

Aftermath of the Jerusalem Locust Plague of 1915

The Rocky Mountain 1874-1875 Locust Invasion

Short video for interested readers

Ranchitos III

February 15, 2020February 15, 2020 Richard Barnes

We have considered the encomienda and the hacienda systems and how the former did not grant title to the land, whereas the latter did. We have also seen that in both cases the intent was to help, protect, and instruct the native populations in the Spanish colonies of the Americas, including Venezuela.

That point is important and we will have more to say about it in other posts. For now, let us simply state that the Spanish crown, for all its failures, desired the best for its colonies in the Americas and did what they could in the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries to realize that desire. I’ve added emphasis in the prior sentence in order to point out that their concern and their efforts were progressive (in the good sense) and humanitarian at a time when life was “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short” and many did not think it important to care for “savages” in other lands.

In both systems, the character of the “owner”, whether the encomendado or the hacendado, in large measure determined the actual treatment of the Indians (or indigenous peoples). There were many cases where encomendados just ignored the temporary nature of their trusts and outright kept the lands entrusted to them. In some of these cases, but by no means all, the land remained with these after transition to the hacendado system where title was granted by the throne.

An important point to remember is that with both systems, although monetary consideration may not have been given, some service to the crown had been rendered, whereby it was demonstrated that the owners had earned their lands, and the lands had legal title. And, in turn, in many cases, under both systems, the Spaniards and their descendants granted lands to faithful or industrious laborers on their haciendas.

(As to the legal aspects of lands owned by colonists and not by the Indians, that is beyond the scope of the posts on ranchitos, but will be addressed in the future.)

Fast forward with me to very recent times. My Puerto Rican father-in-law owned land which he farmed. During his active years he hired a number of men who remained with him and whose children also eventually worked the land. In at least one case that I’m aware of, he, in effect, granted (very low price) a portion of the farm to a faithful foreman who had served him for years. That foreman is now gone but his descendants continue on the land, holding legal title. None live in ranchitos.

Multiply that example by thousands and you get an idea of the evolution of land ownership in Venezuela and throughout the former American Spanish colonial empire up to the 20th century.

And throughout these centuries, there were no ranchitos and no evidence of death by famine, although too much evidence of hundreds of thousands of deaths by revolutions and upheavals in the 19th century. That’s been covered in other posts (for example, see here and here and here) and will be addressed further in future posts, because Venezuela (and her neighbors) cannot be understood otherwise.

Before arriving to the 20th century in our narrative on Venezuelan ranchitos, it is necessary to note that the era following the blood-soaked revolutionary wars was one of decades of convulsive rebellions and multiple, and at times simultaneously competing governments, led by strongmen (caudillos) of varying ideological persuasions.

One persistent whisper, coursing like a wily salamander throughout speeches, pronouncements, declarations, proclamations, and publications was the attack on “large landowners”. With authoritative conviction, the “tragedy”, the “injustice”, the “offense”, or the “scandal” of a few men owning so much land was condemned and denounced.

This was sheer demagoguery and it had little impact in moving large numbers of people to take whatever action was urged. However, it did move these men’s armies or their armed forces and their political fellow travelers.

As to the “post-independence” epoch of the 19th century, following are generalities and a brief mention of some of the more critical personages; deeper analysis and discussion will have to await other posts in the future given that our concern at present is how we got to the ranchitos.

José Antonio Paez – 1830-1848

Having betrayed Simón Bolivar, he led the separation movement from Gran Colombia in 1829 and in 1830 called a constitutional convention for Venezuela as a country, separate from Bolivar’s Gran Colombia. He (Paez) dominated Venezuelan politics until 1848.

He led the Conservatives, who espoused property rights and property qualifications for voting. He also promoted exports, in particular cacao and coffee.

Most historians agree that his years in power were characterized by stability and economic growth.

José Tadeo Monagas – 1848-1858

He was elected in 1846 as a conservative, successor to José Antonio Paez. However, as Paez had betrayed Bolivar, Monagas, in turn, betrayed Paez by abandoning and actively opposing the Conservative party, including attacking land ownership and, in 1848, he exiled the former president (Paez).

His period in power, shared with his brother, was characterized by turmoil. By 1857 the Monagas brothers attempted to extend his rule, which prompted a rebellion wherein he was deposed. But 5 years of terrible bloodletting, known as the Federal Wars, followed, wherein control of the reins of civil government swung from one party to another or were mired in utter confusion.

By 1863, the “Liberals” were in control and power was assumed by:

Antonio Guzmán Blanco – 1863-1888

More rebellions ensued along with more bloodletting. Guzmán consolidated his power in 1870, having swung from Conservative to Liberal to Conservative and finally back to Liberal. He was in power, off and on, through 1888 and was succeeded, after more turmoil, in 1890 by:

Joaquín Crespo – 1890-1899

Following a now all-too-familiar pattern, Crespo’s rule was more turmoil, confusion, and nastiness. But he still found time and energy to pick a fight with England over a vast wilderness in the East where gold had been discovered. We need to leave that adventure for future posts.

The period from 1830 to 1899 confirmed Simón Bolivar’s exasperated complaint in 1829:

“From one end to the other, the New World is an abyss of abomination; there is no good faith in [Spanish] America; treaties are mere paper; constitutions, books; elections, combat; liberty, anarchy; life, a torment. We’ve never been so disgraced as we are now. Before, we enjoyed good things; illusion is fed by chimera…. we are tormented by bitter realities.”

This, from a man who was largely responsible for the chaos he now bitterly laments. A man who proclaimed the glorious unity of the continent, saw it irredeemably fractured and destroyed. He died, embittered (“I have plowed the sea!”), a mere year later.

The Andinos – 1899-1958

At the threshold of the 20th century, Venezuela was about to embark on a period of dramatic progress, peace, and prosperity. In a few years, her foreign debt would be completely and honorably paid off, a vast network of roads constructed, and the foundations laid for “democratic” government.

In general, land ownership and respect for private property continued as it had since colonial days.

Yet the undercurrent of envy in the mouths and hearts of an energetic minority persisted.

José Antonio Paez, one of the most remarkable figures in Venezuelan and South American history. More on him in future posts. He died in exile in New York City.

José Tadeo Monagas. Betrayed José Antonio Paez and the Conservative Party. His perfidy was rewarded with rebellions, bloodletting, and instability.

Antonio Guzmán Blanco. His name is still mentioned in Venezuela. His time in power (or the power behind the throne) was uneven, but included periods of tranquility and peace. However, overall, turmoil reigned.

Joaquín Crespo, in power at the end of Venezuela’s turbulent and blood-soaked 19th century. He managed to appeal to United States President Grover Cleveland to arbitrate a territorial dispute with Great Britain. The arbitration did not please him nor the Venezuelan elite. He was deposed shortly thereafter.

My late father-in-law (right) with his foreman circa 1960

My late father-in-law (right) accompanying my son harvesting plantains. My father-in-law’s example was a microcosm of the *hacenderos* with good character and their treatment of laborers and their descendants.

Ranchitos II

February 10, 2020February 10, 2020 Richard Barnes

This is the second in a series of posts on the Venezuelan ranchitos.

In “Venezuela, ranchitos (or barrios) are like Brazil’s favelas, the shanty towns which grew around Rio de Janeiro and now are ubiquitous in metropolitan areas throughout country. Argentina has Villa Miseria or asentamientos; Chile has campamentos; Colombia, tugurios; and so on.

“To generalize, these are ‘informal settlements.’ Man-on-the-street terms range from slums to shacks to squatter settlements, etc.”

The approach of politicians to this phenomenon is to assume “they’ve always been there” and then to figure out how to get rid of them or how to induce the millions of people living in them to leave for other, more conventional housing.

However, politicians have been “attacking” the ranchitos for generations now, and all with no success. I believe the lack of success is at least partly due to the modern affliction that causes folks to believe that history began with yesterday’s newspapers. In the case of the ranchitos, it might be helpful to look at the background and approaches to land ownership throughout the American Spanish colonies and subsequent generations.

Our prior post dealt with the encomienda system, whose intention was to protect, catechize, and instruct the native population. This system did not include a transfer of land ownership to the Spanish encomendero, but was rather a trust of limited duration, at the end of which formal, legal title to the land would be granted to the Indians (read here for more Ranchitos I).

Seeing its limitations and perverse incentives, the Spanish crown, after several unsuccessful attempts to abolish it, finally succeeded in ending the encomienda system by royal decree in 1717. However, it continued in use till the early 19th century.

What followed the encomienda system was the equally-maligned hacienda system, which was an improvement, and whose success, including the treatment of laborers and native population, depended much on the character of the hacendados. When researching this system, the student will often come across charged and provocative terms like, oligarchs, feudal lords, and absolute power. Such terms deserve to be accompanied by a couple boulders of salt.

In some cases, but by no means all, the encomenderos under the encomienda system became hacendados under the hacienda system.

Hacienda often refers to a vast landholding producing agricultural products for export. That’s a concise, but too limited definition, as haciendas could also refer to mining areas and even factories. In many cases haciendas included several commercial activities.

The principal distinction between an hacienda and an encomienda is the fact of land ownership. The hacendero was granted title to the land by the crown (land grant). In addition, the natives on an hacienda were considered free labor and many haciendas had families who had worked faithfully for the hacendero family for generations.

The origin of the hacienda concept goes back to the latifundium of ancient Rome. In fact, large landholdings in Venezuela are (were!) known as latifundios, whereas small ones are called minifundios. These range from vast cattle ranches or commercial agricultural concerns, to small, family, subsistence farms, also called conucos. But, generally, the Roman latifundium is known as hacienda in Spanish.

The administration of haciendas or latifundios in Venezuela depended on the character of the hacendero. Depending on your sources, you’ll read that the holdings were run based on slave labor where the hacendero had the power of life and death over the laborers, a wholly negative view. However, you’ll also hear of great men of business whose character commanded unflinching loyalty by his laborers, who were paid their daily wages, and who remained with their employers for generations, a wholly positive view. Could it be that, like much in life, the truth is somewhere in the middle?

As with ancient Rome, latifundios were considered “spoils of war” or great grants which recognized some achievement or service to the king or to the realm. These reflected great private power and in many cases were also the backbone, or part of the backbone, of the region or area in which they operated. They created wealth, stability, and continuity, not to mention the projection of the area’s production to other parts of the country and to foreign lands. In sum, these were large, successful business enterprises. For example, the Puerto Rico haciendas were known for their sugar cane and coffee and whose crops were exported.

What is usually heard about the land grants system is that it eventually resulted in 2% of landholders owning 80% of the land (figures vary, but not by much). Such government statistics are notoriously unreliable, but let us stipulate them as correct for now. Their own figures also tell us, in the case of Venezuela, that as late as the 1930’s agriculture accounted for 22% of GDP and 60% of labor, including exports of crops. After “democratic” land reforms, agriculture accounts for about 5% of GDP and 10% of employment and all food is imported.

We can debate the impact of “modernization” on those figures, but our debates must not ignore the effects of “land reform”, which also coincided with the rise of the ranchitos.

Was this coincidental or is there a causal conjunction?