Extra Judicial Deaths

In the early 1960’s, two American Peace Corps volunteers driving in the city of Caracas inadvertently ran a Venezuelan National Guard checkpoint. They were immediately pursued by siren-blaring vehicles and motorcycles. Once they realized they were being chased, they pulled over and stepped out of their car with their hands in the air, only to be shot down in a hail of bullets. One died instantly, the other was in critical condition but was rushed to the hospital and eventually recovered.

Such was the nervousness in those days. Pérez Jiménez had been exiled and Rómulo Betancourt, a former Communist, had been elected president and immediately invited Fidel Castro for talks in Caracas. The talks did not go as anticipated, Castro being impatient for immediate Latin American revolutions, Betancourt having moderated somewhat and being more patient to wait for a revolution over time, wherein the state eventually took over most major private enterprises, including the oil and steel industries.

But Castro’s impatience blew up like an exploding cigar. Arms, ammunition, and explosives caches were found along the Venezuelan coast and easily traced back to Cuba and in November, 1961, Betancourt, very publicly, broke diplomatic relations with Cuba. Immediately, Communist guerrilla activity flared and intensified. Checkpoints were set up across the country, so much so that decades later, when stopped at checkpoints while visiting Latin American countries on business, I experienced no nervousness whatsoever, as I had become inured to such since childhood.

That was the atmosphere and the context in the early ’60s when the two hapless volunteers were shot down.

But the early 1960s were a piker compared to extra judicial deaths in Venezuela between January 2018 and May 2019: 6,856 according to the U.N. High Commissioner for Human Rights. That’s more than the killings attributed to Augusto Pinochet’s 17-years in office. And many believe that the commission likely undercounted.

Of the top 20 “murder capitals” in the world, Venezuela has 4 (second only to Mexico) and Caracas is in third place, after Tijuana and Acapulco. If you have been following this blog, you have an idea how shocking this is when you recall that as late as the mid-20th century Venezuelans left their doors not only unlocked, but sometimes open to allow air to flow through on warm, humid nights.

Our earlier posts told of Richard Nixon’s visit in 1958 (Nixon) and the leftist fervent in Caracas university student bodies and their involvement in that close run thing (Universities). The United States National Security Council’s minutes after the Vice President’s return records some interesting insights by John Foster Dulles, the United States Secretary of State as to what might have ailed Venezuela in that era. The following is excerpted from the minutes in 1958, declassified decades later:

“Secretary Dulles went on to say that there was one more very important factor in the Latin American problem which the United States faced. This was the collapse of religion generally in Latin America. We all believe in this country that religion, with its emphasis on the rights and freedoms of the individual under God, is the very core of our democratic system and that it is also the greatest bulwark against atheistic communism. Unhappily … organized religion had practically no influence on the mass of the people as opposed to the aristocracy. Admittedly, said Secretary Dulles, he did not know what we could do about correcting this very grave situation, but it was certainly at the heart of our problem in Latin America.”

Secretary Dulles was on to something. Search for any listing of the top 50 murder capitals in the world, and you’ll find that all but 9 or 10 are in Latin America. However, you’ll also see a smattering of US cities in the lists. As the true religion wanes in the hearts of a people, their capacity for self-government and self-restraint, as well as their courage in restraining others by simply calling a spade a spade, so to say, also wanes. As to the very little crime in Venezuela up to the middle of the last century, it must be said that much of that was likely due to the mano dura of “benign dictatorships who promptly and at times ruthlessly dealt with crime. As Dulles might have put it: you either govern yourself, or you will be governed.

Even today, in Latin America, the mano dura approach is applauded by people of all philosophical stripes. For example, Coronavirus lockdown decrees (which are not different from those of a number of US state governors) would easily have been characterized as totalitarian not too many decades ago. But, whereas in the US there is genuine questioning and push back, including hard-hitting editorials and opinion columns, in Latin America it is amazing to see very little intellectual resistance, but rather applause because “sometimes such measures are necessary.”

Latin America flirted for a long time with, to use Dulles’ words, “atheistic communism”. There are hopeful signs of an awakening, which cannot come too soon. However, looking at our own dalliance with the living-without-God option, might we facing our own dark night?

In this Easter Season, let us all look to Him Who was lifted up and Who draws all peoples unto Him. Personal knowledge of Him gives us an understanding and an inclination to deny oneself thereby to control oneself. This, in turn, foments a growing appreciation for liberty under God and the eternal vigilance necessary to preserve it.

May you have a wonderful Easter.

Christ on the cross — Rembrandt

How Socialism Ruined Venezuela

Researching for the series on ranchitos, I came across a well-written piece published in 2017 by the Mises Institute, and set it aside for future publication in this blog.

While not “all in” on Austrian economics, I certainly will refer to any publication whose narrative accurately reflects the course of the Venezuela miracle and catastrophe of the 20th and early 21st centuries. 

I vividly recall sometime-heated conversations in the early 1960’s regarding the course that Rómulo Betancourt was taking, although I did not understand the substance of the matters being discussed. I smile when remembering an aged aunt’s utter hatred of Pérez Jimenez and adoration of Betancourt and his party. She was an energetic firecracker and I miss her. My godmother ( Madrina ) was equally fervent for the other major party and just as energetic. 

However, looking back and considering those and subsequent years, one must become aware of the ever-increasing size and power of the state over the lives of Venezuelans, far beyond anything its dictators were ever able to accomplish.

The article below was written by Venezuelans with an expertise in economics. The writing is lively and informative and, aside from a few very small quibbles, trustworthy. The link to the article is below.

Enjoy.

How Socialism Ruined Venezuela, by Rafael Acevedo and Luis B. Cirocco

In order to understand the disaster that is unfolding in Venezuela, we need to journey through the most recent century of our history and look at how our institutions have changed over time. What we will find is that Venezuela once enjoyed relatively high levels of economic freedom, although this occurred under dictatorial regimes.

But, when Venezuela finally embraced democracy, we began to kill economic freedom. This was not all at once, of course. It was a gradual process. But it happened at the expense of the welfare of millions of people.

And, ultimately, the lesson we learned is that socialism never, ever works, no matter what Paul Krugman, or Joseph Stiglitz, or guys in Spain like Pablo Iglesias say.

It was very common during the years we suffered under Hugo Chávez to hear these pundits and economists on TV saying that this time, socialism is being done right. This time, the Venezuelans figured it out.

They were, and are wrong.

On the other hand, there was a time when this country was quite prosperous and wealthy, and for a time Venezuela was even referred to as an “economic miracle” in many books and articles.

However, during those years, out of the five presidents we had, four were dictators and generals of the army. Our civil and political rights were restricted. We didn’t have freedom of the press, for example; we didn’t have universal suffrage. But, while we lived under a dictatorship, we could at least enjoy high levels of economic freedom.

A Brief Economic History of Venezuela

The economic miracle began a century ago, when from 1914 to 1922, Venezuela entered the international oil race. In 1914, Venezuela opened its first oil well. Fortunately, the government did not make the mistake of attempting to manage the oil business, or own the wells. The oil wells were privately owned, and in many cases were owned by private international companies that operated in Venezuela. It wasn’t totally laissez-faire, of course. There were tax incentives and other so-called concessions employed to promote exploration and exploitation of oil. But most industries — including the oil industry — remained privatized.

Moreover, during this period, tax rates in the country were relatively low.

In 1957, the marginal tax rate for individuals was 12 percent. There was certainly a state presence, and the public sector absorbed 20 percent of GDP. But, government spending was used mainly to build the country’s basic infrastructure.

The area of international trade was relatively free as well — and very free compared to today. There were tariffs that were relatively high, but there were no other major barriers to trade such as quotas, anti-dumping laws, or safeguards.

Other economic controls were few as well. There were just a few state-owned companies and virtually no price controls, no rent controls, no interest-rate controls, and no exchange-rate controls.

Of course, we weren’t free from the problems of a central bank, either. In 1939, Venezuela created its own central bank. But, the bank was largely inactive and functioned primarily defending a fixed exchange rate with the US dollar.

Moving Toward More Interventionism

Despite the high levels of economic freedom that existed during those years, government legislation started to chip away at that freedom. Changes included the nationalization of the telephone company, the creation of numerous state-owned companies, and state-owned banks. That happened in 1950 [telephone company was nationalized in 1953]. The Venezuelan government thus began sowing the seeds of destruction, and you can see the continued deterioration in the level of economic freedom in the decade of the 1950s.

In 1958, Venezuela became a democracy when the dictatorship was overthrown. With that came all the usual benefits of democracy such as freedom of the press, universal suffrage, and other civil rights. Unfortunately, these reforms came along with continued destruction of our economic freedom.

The first democratically elected president was Rómulo Betancourt. He was a communist-turned-social democrat. In fact, while he was in exile, he founded the Communist Party in Costa Rica and helped found the Communist Party in Colombia as well. Not surprisingly, as president, he started destroying the economic institutions we had by implementing price controls, rent controls, and other regulations we hadn’t had before. On top of that, he and his allies created a new constitution that was hostile to private property.

In spite of this — or perhaps because of it — Betancourt is almost universally revered in Venezuela as “the father of our democracy.” This remains true even today as Venezuela collapses.

Of course, compared to today, we had far greater economic freedom under Betancourt than we do in today’s Venezuela. But, all of the presidents — with one exception — who came after Betancourt took similar positions and continued to chip away at economic freedom. The only exception was Carlos Andrés Pérez who in his second term attempted some free market reforms. But, he executed these later reforms so badly and haphazardly that markets ended up being blamed for the resulting crises. [Pérez nationalized the oil and iron industries early in his first term (1974-1979). That eventually drove my family from El Pao. Pérez redivivus (1989-1993) attempted to rein in the whirlwind he had unleashed, but to no avail.]

The Rise of Hugo Chávez

Over time, the destruction of economic freedom led to more and more impoverishment and crisis. This in turn set the stage for the rise of a political outsider with a populist message. This, of course, was Hugo Chávez. He was elected in 1998 and promised to replace our light socialism with more radical socialism. This only accelerated the problems we had been facing for decades. Nevertheless, he was able to pass through an even more anti-private-property constitution. Since Chávez’s death in 2013, the attacks on private property have continued, and Chávez’s successor, Nicolás Maduro, promises only more  of the same. Except now, the government is turning toward outright authoritarian socialism, and Maduro is seeking a new constitution in which private property is almost totally abolished, and Maduro will be allowed to remain in power for life.

A Legacy of Poverty

So, what are the results of socialism in Venezuela? Well, we have experienced hyperinflation. We have people eating garbage, schools that do not teach, hospitals that do not heal, long and humiliating lines to buy flour, bread, and basic medicines. We endure the militarization of practically every aspect of life.

The cost of living has skyrocketed in recent years.

Let’s look at the cost of goods in services in terms of a salary earned by a full college professor. In the 1980s, our “full professor” needed to pay almost 15 minutes of his salary to buy one kilogram of beef. Today, in July 2017, our full professor needs to pay the equivalent of 18 hours to buy the same amount of beef. During the 1980s, our full professor needed to pay almost one year’s salary for a new sedan. Today, he must pay the equivalent of 25 years of his salary. In the 1980s, a full professor with his monthly salary could buy 17 basic baskets of essential goods. Today, he can buy just one-quarter of a basic basket.

And what about the value of our money? Well, in March 2007, the largest denomination of paper money in Venezuela was the 100 bolivar bill. With it, you could buy 28 US dollars, 288 eggs, or 56 kilograms of rice. Today, you can buy .01 dollars, 0.2 eggs, and 0.08 kilograms of rice. In July 2017, you need five 100-bolivar bills to buy just one egg.

So, socialism is the cause of the Venezuelan misery. Venezuelans are starving, eating garbage, losing weight. Children are malnourished. Anyone in Venezuela would be happy to eat out of America’s trashcans. It would be considered gourmet.

So, what’s the response of our society? Well, it’s the young people who are leading the fight for freedom in Venezuela in spite of what the current political leaders tell them to do. They don’t want to be called “the opposition.” They are the resistance, in Spanish, “la resistencia.” They are the real heroes of freedom in our country, but the world needs to know that they have often been killed by a tyrannical government, and all members of the resistance are persecuted daily.

This is not surprising. As Venezuelans, our poor understanding of the importance of freedom and free markets has created our current disaster. We Venezuelans never really understood freedom in its broader dimension because when we enjoyed high levels of economic freedom, we allowed the destruction of political and civil rights, and when we finally established a democracy, we allowed the destruction of economic freedom.

But there is reason for hope. Along with the Mises Institute we do believe that a revolution in ideas can really bring a new era to Venezuela. On behalf of the resistance and millions of people in our country, we thank the Mises Institute for this opportunity to briefly tell the full history of Venezuela. 

Thank you very much.

https://mises.org/library/how-socialism-ruined-venezuela

The Great Influenza

From the AP: “Venezuela will implement a nationwide quarantine after detecting 16 new cases of the novel coronavirus on Monday, President [sic!] Nicolas Maduro said, adding that the total number of cases in the South American country has risen to 33.”

It is a given that the numbers are worse, as the Venezuelan state pronouncements have proved to be among the most unreliable.

There is a macabre irony in this latest news concerning the Wuhan Flu (Coronavirus): one of the worst pandemics to afflict the earth was popularly known as the Spanish Flu (or Spanish Influenza).

About 15 years ago, I read The Great Influenza, by John M. Barry. Setting aside his Darwinian presuppositions, Mr. Barry’s opus is an unforgettable, haunting tour de force. I’ve not opened the book since my first reading, but, given all the frenzy accompanying the Coronavirus, I’m considering re-adding to my reading pile.

The Great Influenza is considered to be the deadliest pandemic in history. It infected 500 million people, one-third of the world’s population, with up to 100 million deaths, or a 20% mortality rate. That’s far more than all the soldiers and civilians killed by the war. Most affected were the very young (under 5), those in the 20-40 age group, and those over 65. A most unique age distribution whose explanation is beyond the scope of this overview.

Mr. Barry makes the case that the virus originated in the hog farms of Kansas and spread to the U.S. Army base there and from thence to the world as armies were transported to all points on earth. However, more recent discoveries point to origins in China. 

Although the origins of the flu may be debatable, the origins of the moniker are not. During the Great War (WWI), the Allied powers were very well aware of a devastating virus which was killing thousands of soldiers and civilians; however, they wanted to keep that under wraps so as to not hurt morale and to not disrupt war production. Yes, our wise and compassionate shepherds were telling us to suck it up and get back to the wartime factories and bases. 

And spread the virus.

Spain was a neutral country and as the flu ravaged her, their newspapers were not shy in reporting its terrible advance, even infecting the Spanish king, Alfonso XIII. The Allies were perfectly content to let the world think it was due to something in Spain. However, as deaths accumulated — eventually killing 500,000-700,000 in the United States — its ravages could no longer be ignored.

Many Americans noticed symptoms in the morning and were dead by nightfall.

One story tells of a man who boarded a Philadelphia trolley. A fellow passenger fell over dead within minutes, another disembarked and keeled over, dead; finally the conductor succumbed. The passenger, unhurt, disembarked and walked home. Many symptoms were triggered by this pandemic, including coughing up blood as lungs collapsed.

It was a terrible scourge. Death was everywhere. A children’s rhyme in 1918 was:

“I had a little bird
Its name was Enza
I opened up the window
and in flew enza.”

My mother  was born about a decade after the flu ran its course. She recalls that my grandmother said little about it other than, “Murieron muchos. [Many died.]” And that was well in the interior of Venezuela. There are few today who lived through that pandemic. Fritzi Bryant is one of them. She is 106 years old and lives in a nursing home in Washington State. She was interviewed recently.

“I’m doing wonderful,” she said. “Just fine. Everything is fine here. Plenty to eat, which is good. You have to look at the sunny side instead of the bad side of things.” 

“There’s no sense in playing it down; you have to look it square in the face…to do everything you can in your power to make it better.”

My son, Nathan, recently posted some comments on Isaiah 41:1-10. Below are the first verse followed by his respective comments thereon:

“Keep silence before me, O islands; and let the people renew their strength: let them come near; then let them speak: let us come near together to judgment.” 

(Everyone pause and listen, stop your panic and hear…. We are not called to keep in silent fear behind shut doors, but to gather near to God and encourage one another with words of hope, and then determine what is right to do and act accordingly. It seems we have skipped that first step, and in skipping it, we are not sure what to do; in not knowing what to do, we fear; and in fearing, we overreact; and in overreacting, we make extreme decisions; and in making extreme decisions, we collapse.)

So far, it’s 0.0039% and 0.0033%. Those are the percentages (.000039 and .000033, in decimal format) which represent the number of cases in the United States and in the world, compared to the total US and world populations, respectively, including deaths, recoveries, in-treatments. Compare those figures to the 33% infection rate during the Great Influenza. However, this is not the picture painted by the media and the bureaucrats, which lead to believe the Zombie Apocalypse is upon us. 

It is not irrational to ask: are the “remedies” being imposed upon us worse than the disease? Life savings and annual earnings have been wiped out. And more is to come if nothing changes. A number of jurisdictions have, in effect, ordered the closure of churches. This might be the right thing to do; but be not afraid to ask questions.

We are to be prudent. But we are not to lose our minds, let alone our courage.

“The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27:1)”

He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High Shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 

I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: My God; in him will I trust.

Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler,And from the noisome pestilence.

He shall cover thee with his feathers,And under his wings shalt thou trust:

His truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; Nor for the arrow that flight by day;

Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness;Nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.(Psalm 91:1-6)

Trust God and carry on.

A tour de force. Published in 2005.
Infected soldiers from Ft. Riley, Kansas.
November, 1918 photo made available by the Library of Congress. A girl stands next to her sister lying in bed. The girl telephoned the Red Cross Home Service who came to help the woman fight the virus. I don’t know how this particular story ended.
Mass graves being dug for “Spanish Flu” victims in Philadelphia.

Teresa Carreño

Teresa Carreño is a well-known name in Venezuela. However, other than associating the name with arts and culture, few know much about her.

Born in Venezuela, she played piano for European and American eminences and twice in the White House: once for Abraham Lincoln and the next time for Woodrow Wilson. 

In prior posts, including the recent series on ranchitos, you will have noticed the many terrible wars and rebellions in 19th-century Venezuela. This had undeniable effect on Venezuelan society. Perhaps the story of one young girl and her eventual triumphs and failures will help put “flesh and blood” on aspects of such effect.

This post is a translation of a biographical sketch first published by the BBC a few years ago:

Teresa Carreño was barely 9 years old when, in the fall of 1863, she was invited to play the piano for then-president Abraham Lincoln.

The Venezuelan pianist returned to the White House in the winter of 1916 to offer a Christmas recital in honor of President Woodrow Wilson.

Between the first and the second concert 53 years had passed.

In that period, Carreño developed a successful musical career as performer, composer, and singer, which led her to make numerous international tours and to meet or collaborate with maestros such as Gustav Mahler, under whose direction she played with the New York Philharmonic Society.

A child prodigy, her professional trajectory took international flight, driven by wars and exile.

“Girl Genius”

Born in Caracas in 1853, in the bosom of a musical family — her grandfather was a well-known composer of sacred music –, Carreño gave evidence of great artistic sensibility from a very early age.

This caused her father, Manuel Antonio Carreño, to begin piano lessons and to assign complex exercises which permitted her to develop her abilities.

By 1861, little Teresa was considered to be a “girl genius” and had composed numerous short pieces for the piano, including eight waltzes, three dances, and two polkas.

However, the deterioration of the political situation in her native Venezuela — where her father was minister of the Treasury of a government facing a civil war — drove her family into exile in the United States in 1862, where another civil war was raging.

That very same year, at 8 years old, the young pianist debuted in New York City, where she was hailed by the public as a “musical phenomenon.”

“She deserves to be classified, not as a girl wonder, who at the age of 8 years has mastered all the technical difficulties of the piano, but as an artist with a first level sensibility,” wrote the musical critic of The New York Times.

Her talent greatly impressed the American composer, Louis Moreau Gottschalk, who in that time was considered one of the best pianists in the New World, and who became — for a brief time — the girl’s first professor in New York.

After her successful performances in the Big Apple, Carreño initiated her first tour in the United States, including the private concert she offered to President Lincoln in the White House, in which she played several compositions by Gottschalk as well as one of the president’s favorite songs, “Listen to the Mocking Bird.”

Teachers, Friends, and Influences

Her stay in New York does not last long. In 1866, the family traveled to the other side of the Atlantic and settled in Paris, where Carreño performed her European debut.

During her first weeks in the City of Light, the young lady [12 years old] met musicians such as Gioachino Rossini, creator of universal operas such as The Barber of Seville, and the Hungarian composer, Franz Liszt, who offered to give her musical lessons, which she declined.

She did study with Georges Mathias, who had studied under Frédéric Chopin and whose lessons served to make the Polish composer Carreño’s favorite.

During a tour of London, the Venezuelan pianist met Anton Rubinstein, ex-tutor of Tchaikovsky, who became friend as well as an important musical influence to her.

But the artistic career of the Venezuelan in Europe also took other paths.

Carreño was blessed with a beautiful mezzosoprano voice which was discovered by Rossini, who gave her singing lessons which became useful in exploiting another facet of her musical talent: operatic interpretation.

In 1872, in Edinburg on a concert tour, a soprano who was to interpret the role of the queen of Navarra in the opera, The Huguenots, fell ill and Carreño, who had never sung in public, substituted for her.

“In four days she learned the difficult role and performed in the opera with great success,” wrote The New York Times critic in 1916.

Shortly after that episode, Carreño returned to live in the United States, where she continued to perform for several years as singer in roles such as Zerlina in Don Giovanni.

Personal Difficulties

During her first stay in Europe, in 1873, Carreño married the violinist, Emile Sauret, which whom she had a daughter, Emilita, whom the couple left in the care of a German friend in order to continue touring to meet their professional commitments.

Then, a series of problems hit the pianist: the tour failed, she suffered the loss of a second pregnancy, her marriage with Sauret ended in divorce, and her father died in France, which left her in a difficult financial situation prohibiting her from providing for the care of Emilita, who ended up being adopted by the family of her German friend.

She returned to the United States, where she met the Italian baritone, Giovanni Tagliapietra, whom she married in 1876. The couple had three children, but the marriage also ended in divorce in 1889.

The Valkyrie of the Piano

Towards the end of 1889, Carreño returned to the Old Continent to settle in Berlin. 

There, that same year, she married the pianist and composer Eugen D’Albert, with whom she had two daughters in a marriage that lasted only three years.

In Europe, Carreño toured several times through Germany, Russia, and other European countries and met the Norwegian Composer, Edward Grieg, and she becomes a proponent of his works.

In Germany, she is named “The Valkyrie of the Piano” and “the lion of the keyboard,” because of her strong, impetuous style interpreting compositions.

This was one of the characteristics for which she was known since childhood, when the critics reported that the strength with which she played the piano was like that of an adult male.

“It is difficult to adequately express what all musicians sensed in the presence of this great woman who looked like a queen among the pianists and played like a goddess,” wrote Henry Woods, director and founder of the London Summer Concerts which are now known last the BBC Proms.

“Her masculine vigor in tone and touch and her marvelous precision in execution excite the world,” he added.

With the passing of the year, however, Carreño began playing with a different type of energy.

After her death, a critic writing for The New York Times highlighted how the Venezuelan pianist had changed throughout the course of her career.

“I remember her as young, and, now, after all these years, it was a pleasure to sit and hear her play again,” he wrote.

“When I heard her recently, it seemed to me that the woman with the kind face and the gray hair played in a way that was much more artistic than how she had played when she was a young woman with a more passionate mood,” he added.

Carreño fell ill in Cuba, when she was about to initiate a tour through South America in March, 1917. She died in June of that year in her apartment in Manhattan, where she lived with her fourth husband, Arturo Tagliapietra, the brother of her second husband, Giovanni Tagliapietra.

Her last concerts in the United States were in Carnegie Hall, where between 1897 and 1916 she gave 32 performances, according to research done by the historian, Anna E. Kijas, of Tufts University (Massachusetts), creator of Documenting Teresa Carreño, a digital project which gathered numerous materials and primary sources about this Venezuelan.

Throughout her career, Carreño offered over 5,000 concerts and composed over 70 original musical pieces.

And, in all those years, she returned to Venezuela only twice. The first time, in 1885, for a recital tour. The second, in 1887, when she had planned to direct an opera company, which ended in failure.

She was cremated and, in 1938, her ashes were sent to Caracas, where they now rest in the National Pantheon.

Since the beginning of the 1980’s, Venezuela’s most modern theater bears her name.

Teresa Carreño in the United States. Initially after exile, she helped support her family with her concerts.
Promoted in The United States as “The Child Pianist”.
Her career spanned over half a century.
Teatro Teresa Carreño, Caracas, Venezuela.

Link to the original article.
https://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias-51451987

Ranchitos VI — Land Reform and Ranchitos

The first 5 posts in this series on ranchitos, looked at the centuries-old history of land ownership in Venezuela (and in much of Spanish colonial America, including parts of what became the United States). One aspect of landholding, consistent throughout the centuries, up to the late 1950s, was a respect for private property, whether it belonged to small landholders or large.

This changed dramatically with the first democratically-elected president of Venezuela, Rómulo Betancourt. (For more on Betancourt, see here and here.)

In 1958, Venezuela had the 4th highest per capita GDP in the world, despite being governed by military governments since the turn of the century. Its monetary policy was stable and property rights were respected and honored. 

Marcos Pérez Jiménez went into exile in early 1958, and a new democratic regime was installed under Mr. Betancourt. His government, and that of his successors, completely overthrew the mostly non-interventionist political order that, with fits and starts, had ruled the day for over a century. This is not the place to discuss the Punto Fijo Pact, which, in effect, ultimately centralized political control in two major parties. But it is necessary to note that both parties were socialistic and interventionist.

To quote a Venezuelan writer: “In 1958, Venezuela became a democracy when the dictatorship was overthrown. With that came all the usual benefits of democracy such as freedom of the press, universal suffrage, and other civil rights. Unfortunately, these reforms came along with … destruction of our economic freedom.”

In the matter of landholdings, the land reform launched by Betancourt, with the support of the Punto Fijo Pact signatories, redistributed property holdings. Although the state compensated the owners for the expropriations, it was a “taking” nonetheless. The recipients of the parceled out land did not have actual title to their land, but only the right to work it. Or, in those cases where they were given title, they lacked the expertise, technical know-how, and the necessary infrastructure to make a go of it. In fact, 90% of distributed lands were transferred without title. It was actually a transfer of tenancy, not ownership. In other words, from being working tenants of large, productive haciendas, the peasants became failing tenants of small parcels owned by the state. 

To put it simply: in most cases, ownership of land was transferred from private citizens to the state.

To get an idea of the radical nature of these actions in Venezuela’s history, consider: no tax had ever been imposed on land until the latter half of the 20th century.

As we have seen in earlier posts on ranchitos, historically, land was often ceded, or sold for nominal price, by hacendados to men, or families, or widows, who had lived and worked it. These cessions or sales were duly notarized and recorded in municipal or city records. In many other cases, records reflected men who claimed ownership on the basis of decades having lived and worked on sections of land whose original owners and families had been killed or dispossessed during the great bloodlettings of the 19th century. 

Excerpts of one such record reads, “….Carlos Durán, citizen of the State and neighbor of the San Juan Parish, I direct myself to you [governor of the state] to justify my right to title: I have lived and worked a small part of the land called “La Angosturita” in my Parish where, with great effort and sacrifice, I have built an inheritance on which I depend for the sustenance of my family. I am now aged and infirm as a result of the vicissitudes and desolation of the federal revolution [one of many 19th century uprisings] to which I contributed with my insignificant personal efforts in the army….”

The excerpt goes on to describe and delineate the parcel, including its boundaries, “[bordered to the east by land owned] by Juan Manuel Durán, to the north and west by Carlos Herrera, to the south by Mrs. Carmen Betancourt de Otero….” On this basis, which, however pitiful, is very detailed and straightforward, title was granted.

In the case of land reform, as with any socialistic endeavor, the impulse was not only to “take”, but also to somehow modify behavior. For example, to quote an Acción Democrática (Betancourt’s political party) technician who, thirteen years later, analyzed land reform’s unkept promises, wrote with a measure of despondency: “It was necessary to create technicians who would understand [agricultural] processes, it was necessary to prepare administrative and managerial personnel, and to educate and equip the laborer in new disciplines with which he had never had any experience. These are some of the elements that hindered the success of our agrarian reform.”

Necessary to create…necessary to prepare…. How? Ex nihilo? Wasn’t this what the former landholders hacendados had been doing for centuries? What gargantuan conceit made the Socialists think they’d do a better job of this than the prior owners? The state rails against the evil landowners. But is the state composed of heavenly angels? Fifty years later, land reform had become a weapon with which to punish the state’s enemies and reward its acolytes. Hacendados were not known to do that.

Part of the problem is that the state (any state) does not like competition. In its view, the greatest Competition, of course, is God. Hence the state’s animosity. However, large landowners are also a form of competition and so must be opposed as well.

What typical “land reform” fails to take into account are the eternal verities. If the state would merely begin with a half-serious consideration of the Ten Commandments, it would hesitate before taking anyone’s land. Naboth’s vineyard comes to mind.

Almost overnight, Venezuela’s agriculture went from 22% of GDP to 5% and its agricultural labor force went from 60% to less than 10%. Only 4% of the land in Venezuela is under cultivation and food must be imported. 

Peasants had been given the right to farm land when they knew not how. Or they had been given land they knew little about. They had also been given loans to buy equipment and infrastructure, much of which was defaulted. Knowing there was food and patronage in Caracas, they did what most folks who are averse to starving would do: they abandoned the land and fled to the capital. And not having housing there, they built their own ranchitos

And they are there still.

Signatories of the Punto Fijo Pact, 1958. From left to right: Rómulo Betancourt, Jóvito Villalba, and Rafael Caldera
The promise of land reform
The reality of land reform which disregards eternal verities: ranchitos near Caracas