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.
