Tag: Venezuela

Bocón, Caribe, Anchor Chain

Richard Barnes

Having caught only one fish, and after trying for hours and catching nothing else, the boy set his bamboo rod on the barge and climbed down the iron ladder to the third or fourth rung from the ground from which he jumped to the shore where he scrambled to the large saltines can holding the lonely fish.

His father had placed the large “Nabisco La Favorita” can beneath what seemed to the boy to be the largest anchor chain in the world. It was fastened to a giant anchor screwed to the hill just beyond the shore, from whence it held the barge from floating away into the Orinoco current.

The cans I recall were red, but the shape and branding were as above. My father would use a large hand forged iron nail to punch holes into the can to allow air to circulate and thus lengthen the life of the fishes used for bait.
The nail looked something like this, only it was larger (as recalled by me as a young child). The head was large enough for my mother or father to hit it with the palm or fist to open cans or punch holes

The chain was large enough to provide shade for the fish as well as for the boy, who now crouched beneath it, watching the fish swim to and fro or at times just remain stationary.

He recalled the occasion when he had caught a piranha and his father had placed it in a can all by itself. They had taken it home to show his mother. Seeing the fish refused to move, his father, who did indeed know better, stuck his finger in the water to move it a bit only to see blood. He quickly pulled out and saw that the cannibalistic fish, having moved faster than sound, had bitten off the tip of his finger. They all had had a good surprise followed by hearty laughter.

In Venezuela, Piranhas are called “Caribe(s)”, after the Caribe Indians who ravaged Venezuela at the time of Columbus. As usual, current “scholarship” tends to preface their cannibalism with “allegedly”. However, contemporary accounts leave no room for doubt. One reason no Mayan or Aztec-like civilizations are found in Venezuela was the unrelenting warfare of the savage Caribes. Their tortures included holding subjugated peoples and biting (yes, biting) them to death, while also slicing them with sharp shells. It is no secret why the Piranha is known as the Caribe in Venezuela.

Piranha (Caribe). Not a fish to take home to mother.

The fish in the can under the chain was a Bocón, a “big mouth.” These were in great abundance in the Orinoco but usually during a certain time of the year. Clearly this day was not during that certain time of year, else the can would have been teeming with the fish, not just one.

He crouched in the shadow of the chain and contemplated the Bocón as it balanced itself lazily near the center of the can; his father remained on the barge, patiently waiting for the big one.

Anchor Chains.

The barge was big, rusty, and seemingly abandoned. At least it was “always” there when father and son went fishing in or about that spot. Halfway across the wide Orinoco a dredging vessel and crew did its work. In 1952 U.S. Steel Corporation undertook the dredging of the Orinoco to allow deep water shipping which would eliminate the need to transfer ore from river boats to ocean going vessels. Once the dredging was done a few years later, the Bethlehem Steel closed its ocean port, Puerto de Hierro, and shipped ore from its Orinoco port, Palúa, directly to its massive steel works in Sparrows Point, Maryland. Puerto de Hierro was transformed into a Venezuelan navy base.

For years, Bethlehem Steel, and others, paid tolls to U.S. Steel for using the dredged river channels as its ships came to load and returned to the United States, laden with ore. After expropriation, the maintenance and usage of the channels continued, but by 2005, maintenance had suffered and deep sea shipping had become more intermittent, usually limited to high water seasons.

Dredging the Orinoco River. This photo was taken in the year 2000. Maintenance had to be kept up, otherwise the mighty river would soon render the channels unseaworthy. By 2005, shipping was limited to high water seasons.

The boy felt someone pushing down on him below the shoulders. He looked to his right, towards the barge and fleetingly saw his father holding the fishing line, facing the river, away from the boy. Fleetingly, because what was pushing him down unremittingly was the giant chain. The river’s undulation was bringing the barge down and that action was lowering the chain onto the boy. He yelled, but by then was crushed so tightly that no sound escaped his mouth. Not even a whisper.

From the corner of his eye he saw the shadow of his father jump from the barge to the shore and rushing up behind him. He saw that shadow grab the chain and seek to lift it. Lift it. Lift it. 

He lost consciousness.

He opened his eyes as his father carried him running up the steep cement steps that led from the river back up to the camp.  Then he lost consciousness again only to awaken in the camp hospital with the doctor saying that he was going to be OK.

We returned to the river to pick up our stuff and then headed for home. My father explained that he had heard nothing until a guard standing atop the stairs yelled at him, “Oiga! Su hijo le necesita!” (Hey! Your son needs you!”). That’s when my father looked to the chain and saw me, seemingly being flattened. I did not hear anyone saying anything, but I might have been passing out by then. 

What surprised my father was that, in a day when everybody knew everybody, he had never seen that guard before, nor did he ever see him again. Not even when he finally reached the top of the stairs. There was no one around. In addition, of course, no man could have raised that barge from the river either.

When my father grabbed that chain and sought to lift it, it just kept bearing down, down. But Someone made the river swell. And the water rose. And so did the chain. He told me that, once the chain lifted from my back, I just fell to the side, doubled over like a clam. He thought for sure my back was broken, which I’m glad it wasn’t. Else carrying me up the stairs, although perfectly understandable, would not have been a good idea!

God lifted the tide and preserved my back from breaking. He also sent an angel to minister. I believe that if my back had been broken, that “guard” would have told my father and he would have called for an ambulance instead.

“Take heed that ye despise not [look down on] one of these little ones; for I say unto you that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.”

That’s as good an explanation as any.

This is the closest I can find on the “Bocón” that we used to fish in great numbers in the Orinoco. When we fished from the shores of the Orinoco or from the barges, we’d mostly catch smaller sizes than seen in the image, and we used them for bait as well as taking them home for grilling or frying.
The port of Palúa. The events alluded to in the post occurred beyond the ore bridge in the photo’s background.
Arial view of the port. Note the ore bridge on the right. 
The Orinoco River heading across from the company port. Sailors compared this river to the ocean.
Father and son on the Orinoco

So far from God and so close to the United States!

Richard Barnes

“Only those born in Spain were allowed to own shops or mines in the colonies.” The Invention of Nature: Alexander von Humboldt’s New World, page 47.

“…[Simón] Bolivar was the son of one of Caracas’s wealthiest creole families [which] owned several plantations, mines and elegant town homes.” The Invention of Nature: Alexander von Humboldt’s New World, page 117.

Yes, it’s the same book, published in 2016 (I am about halfway through). And the above tendentiousness — the colonists could own nothing on page 47 — and contradiction — the colonists were tycoons 70 pages later — are not isolated.

It is hailed as a masterpiece by the usual literati. It is considered at times interesting, at times insufferable, and at times infuriating by your humble blogger. You’re better off reading Humboldt’s writings directly.

We’ve much work yet ahead of us in clearing the misconceptions and prejudices which color our understanding of South America generally and Venezuela specifically, not to mention world history and science.

The fact remains that Spain’s conquest of much of the Americas, their export of European culture to these shores, their eradication of human sacrifices, their education and teaching of the Spanish language to the indigenous peoples, and much more, remains an unequalled, spectacular achievement in history. Humboldt, himself a creature of the Enlightenment, who like his fellows, borrowed profusely from Christianity without so much as a tip of the hat, would have achieved nothing had it not been for Spain who gave him a passport when Enlightenment France did not, and had it not been for the missions in the Americas who helped him and had even seen many of his discoveries centuries before he was conceived in his mother’s womb. He just took it all for granted, like a good modern.

Now, saying the above does not mean I am blind to Spanish failures (nor am I blind to English failures) or Jesuit perfidy. But it does mean that I refuse to take at face value the usual textbook approach to Spain and South America that we’ve been spoon fed for centuries now. The history of our neighbors to the south and across the pond is much more complex and vastly richer than: Spain bad–Spain rape–Spain kill–Las Casas saint.

I would challenge us to consider the possibility that we in the United States have much more in common with South America than we do with modern Europe. But to consider that challenge, we must first make an effort to clear the underbrush accumulated over hundreds of years. What did Spain do right? What did she do wrong? Was Spain responsible for the fearsome bloodletting in 19th century South America? Hint: she was not. Then who and what was? 

In 1829, after “independence”, Simón Bolivar wrote to his fellow South Americans in A Look At Spanish America: 

“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.

Historian Luis Level de Goda wrote in 1893, “The revolutions have produced in Venezuela nothing but the most vulgar leaders, tribal chieftains, the greatest disorders and lack of concern for one another, corruption, and a long, never-ending tyranny, the moral ruin of the country, and the degradation of a great number of Venezuelans.”

Half a century before Level de Goda, the writer, Cecilio Acosta made a like point, “The internal convulsions have produced sacrifices but not improvements; tears but not harvests.” Others have made similar, terrible, and depressing observations.

One of the purposes of this blog is to look at these and related matters as dispassionately as possible and hopefully to encourage us to reconsider what we’ve been taught for generations. 

And maybe, with God’s help and with sincere goodwill, we might see a true and wonderful rapprochement between “The Colossus of the North” (how they referred to the USA for generations) and the land which was first called “America” (it was South America who first had that epithet, not the United States).

Long time Mexican president, Porfirio Díaz, spoke for many in Central and South American when he exclaimed in exasperation: “Poor Mexico! So far from God, so close to the United States [Pobre Méjico! Tan lejos de Dios y tan cerca de los Estados Unidos]!”

I’d say that, today, both the United States and South America are far from God as far as their legislators go. Let’s pray and work towards a rapprochement with the Triune God. Then the way to a bright future between these great neighbors will be not only more possible but excitingly successful and fruitful!

Porfirio Díaz, president of Mexico; photo taken early 20th century. 
Don Porfirio Díaz and his wife, Doña Carmen, in exile in Paris circa 1912, shortly before his death.
Simón Bolivar as usually depicted
Sketch from life in 1830 by José María Espinosa. Bolivar was 47 and died shortly thereafter.

Following are representative examples of Spanish architecture in colonial Americas

Castillo de San Marcos, St. Augustine, Florida, United States, built 17th century.
Cuzco Cathedral, Cuzco, Perú. Built 17th century.
Metropolitan Cathedral, Mexico City. Built in sections with the first section built in the 16th century (the century before the arrival of the Pilgrims)
Metropolitan Cathedral of Quito, Quito, Ecuador. Construction began in 1562.
Cathedral of San Juan, Puerto Rico, first constructed of wood in 1521; current building first constructed in 1540, almost 100 years before the Pilgrims.
Cathedral of Santa María la Menor, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, construction began in 1512 and was completed in 1540. Pilgrims arrived in Massachussets in 1620. First permanent English settlement in America was in 1607. My point is not that “Spain is better or that England is better”; it is simply that there is more to our stories than that in the standard narratives.
Old San Juan, Puerto Rico. Puerto Rico was one of the very few Spanish colonies that was not devastated by the bloodletting elsewhere in the Americas. The district, now a national historic site, is characterized by cobblestone streets and stone buildings dating to the 16th and 17th centuries.

Nationalization and Military Dissent

Richard Barnes

In the late 1970’s, I took an extended leave to visit the country of my birth. During that most memorable trip, I had the joyful pleasure of meeting countless individuals and families, who, in true Venezuelan fashion were not shy in sharing their opinions about the direction the country was taking at the time. 

That direction was, in a word, “nationalization” or forced divestment, principally of the iron ore and petroleum industries. This phenomenon was worldwide at the time, especially in Africa and Latin America, and it had devastating consequences. 

What I saw — gargantuan enterprises with protean manufacturing plants, power centers, chemical processors, and assorted buildings and dormitories, accompanied by massive hirings of blue and white collar workforces and countless foreign workers, some of whom were housed on cruise ships docked on the Orinoco — did not “pass the sniff test”.

I had a number of vigorous but mostly friendly debates on the merits of government-run versus privately run operations. Already the mining camp where I was born had shown deterioration. One lady expressed sincere surprise at this, “How is it that now that this belongs to us, we haven’t managed to maintain it, let alone improve it?”

“Could it be that when something belongs to ‘us all’ it actually belongs to no one?” was one refrain I found myself repeating throughout the trip. 

At my expressed concern about the immense power and wealth being concentrated in the Venezuelan government, something usually seen in Communist or Socialist regimes, the usual reply by those who disagreed with my concerns, was along the lines of, ‘it’s about time that “our” wealth remained here instead of being transferred to the United States.'”

Conversely, the reply by those who somewhat agreed with my concerns was along the lines of, “the Venezuelan military would never allow the government to devolve into outright Socialism or Communism.”

Interestingly, neither camp was concerned about what all this nationalization activity would lead to. In one heated and less friendly exchange, a more recent acquaintance at the time ridiculed my concerns, expressing disdain that I would question the massive wealth now owned by the Venezuelan people. He mocked my assertion that the people actually “owned” nothing. It was all owned by the state.

According to a scholarly analysis by the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City in 2013, “Nationalization brought considerable declines in productivity in the oil industries of the sample countries. Productivity fell by more than 70 percent in the Venezuelan oil industry. Despite enormous efforts put into expansion, it took Venezuelan’s nationalized industry about 20 years to return to its early 1960’s productivity levels.”

Sadly, shortly after the 20 years, another, more serious wave of nationalization was launched with even more catastrophic results. To take just one example, the enormous Venezuelan steelworks, Sidor, the crown of Venezuelan heavy industry, saw its production go from 4 million tons of steel in 2007, the year before its nationalization by the Chavez Socialist government, to 1.5 million in 2014, with triple the number of employees. Between late October, 2013 and August 2014, it had operated for only 90 days. I have no access to more recent figures nor would I trust them if I did.

Well, the wealth is gone for the most part; other than the billions in the private foreign bank accounts of a relative handful of Socialists. As for the massive mineral and petroleum reserves, those await the capital and the expertise to extract it. That explains the intense interest and activity in Venezuela on the part of both China and Russia.

As to the military, in later trips, friends were more subdued as they told me of the heavy Cuban influence in the Venezuelan forces. Why was this not being reported, they wondered.

Fidel Castro ruthlessly applied the tactic of buying or otherwise coopting the military. A tactic he taught Hugo Chavez and Nicolás Maduro. Hence, the failure of the Venezuelan military to “never allow the government to devolve into outright Socialism or Communism.”

To read more about the emasculation of the Venezuelan military, refer to the Reuters article linked below, “How Cuba Taught Venezuela to Quash Military Dissent”. The article is appreciated, but why did it not appear a decade ago when it might have made a difference?

https://editorialexpress.com/cgi-bin/conference/download.cgi?db_name=CEF2014&paper_id=90
The macroeconomic analysis of the negative impact of nationalization on productivity

https://www.yahoo.com/news/special-report-cuba-taught-venezuela-121454933.html

Clouds of DDT

Richard Barnes

In the 1950’s and early 60’s we (the boys in the camp) enjoyed an occasional treat: DDT spraying. On such days, we’d mischievously run behind the company pick-up as it pulled a powerful pump throughout the camp, spraying clouds of DDT, enveloping us as we ran and zigzagged behind it like crazy banshees following some loud piped piper billowing thick clouds of sweet smelling mist which protected the camps from outbreaks of malaria.

There’s something about clouds. When flying to and from the U.S. on annual leave, I’d always hope we’d fly into clouds. I would wonder how it would be to jump off the airplane, into the clouds. Clouds! Beautiful, soft, memorable clouds. Whether fog just above the ground, or mist rolling off the river, or high, cumulus clouds above, clouds pointed to the heavens, to freedom, to action, to beauty, to adventure, to … being a boy. And the white foamy mist the sprayer poured forth was close enough to real clouds!

Our parents did not like us getting anywhere near the stuff, but, like moths drawn to light, we simply refused to resist the temptation and once we heard the unique sound of the pump and saw the clouds coming down the road, we ran to it and followed it like athletes running a marathon; only these El Pao athletes screamed, waved their arms like butterflies, or held them straight out from their sides like airplanes and breathed the stuff deeply into our lungs. We competed to see who could get the closest to the pump. The driver would stick his head out and yell at us to keep away from the truck and pump, not because of the insecticide, but for fear he’d run us over. We’d laugh and he, well, he eventually had to laugh right back at us. But he would still shake his fist!

I don’t recall how often the DDT was sprayed: twice a year? Twice a month? But I do well remember how much fun it was and my bewilderment when I learned that DDT was banned worldwide because of concerns. It was hard for a boy to figure out what could be more of a concern than death by malaria and I do remember adults expressing worries about that.

Without getting into the controversies, which, incredibly, are still “hot” despite so many years of world-wide prohibition, for our purposes we’ll just point out some facts which help illuminate the history and one of the great successes of Venezuela.

The country had the highest number of human malaria cases in Latin America before 1936. During 1891-1920, malaria was endemic to over 600,000 squared kilometers of Venezuela; deaths from malaria substantially reduced the population during that period. No pathogen, including the influenza virus that caused the 1918 pandemic, caused more deaths than malaria during 1905-1945. 

Venezuela’s efforts to eradicate this scourge sparked the world’s interest in global eradication. She developed an efficient control program, but, undeniably, it was the introduction of DDT in 1945 which did the lion’s share. I recall visiting my family in San Félix on the banks of the Orinoco and, every night at bedtime, my aunt or my cousins would manually pump insecticide in all rooms, shutting the doors as they finished. This reflects the extent of the malaria eradication campaign. All homes knew what to do and what processes to take. 

“Success of DDT spraying was startling. Malaria disappeared after 3-5 years without additional measures beyond occasional quinacrine use in areas….” (Source: National Institutes of Health). Before DDT use, most municipalities in affected areas … had mortality rates of 20 – 50 / 1000 persons. This rather rapidly precipitated to near zero after the introduction of DDT.

It wasn’t all insecticide, of course. Looking back, I am still startled at the cleanliness in the humblest homes in the country; how all things were picked up right away and spills were mopped up immediately. Etc. Visitors wrote that the poorest Venezuelan homes were greater examples of cleanliness and neatness than many northern European dwellings at the time.

Venezuelan doctors, including the influential Arnoldo Gabaldón, insisted on eradication, and actively opposed the World Health Organization’s (WHO) approach of “control”. “In 1968, a WHO report found that ‘the concept of malaria eradication adopted by the national [Venezuelan] authorities’ has … and is … at variance with the [experts].” 

But even before Gabaldón, other Venezuelan doctors were leading the way to eradication. In 1894, Dr. Santos Anibal Dominici (1869-1954) identified the malaria parasite in patients in Caracas. But he was more inclined to involvement in politics and upon return from exile in 1936, he named Dr. Enrique Tejera (1889-1980) to lead malaria efforts. However, Dr. Tejera resigned in disgust because global efforts did not address whether malaria could be eradicated or merely controlled. 

His dissatisfaction presaged issues highlighted decades later by Dr. Gabaldón which eventually resulted in a split between Gabaldón and WHO, which is a story that continues to be repeated in many disciplines: “developing” countries resent it when fully developed ones seek to tell them what’s good for them, even when it comes to life or death matters, such as the eradication of malaria.

Sadly, “once a beacon of malaria eradication”, Venezuela is again being buffeted by the disease.

But those controversies were the farthest things from the minds of boys running after the clouds.

Images of trucks spraying of DDT, 1950’s and early 1960’s.
Similar to the manual pump used by my Aunt and cousins in San Félix every night at bedtime.
Dr. Santos Anibal Dominici (1869-1954), Medical Doctor, Writer, Diplomat. His involvement in politics limited his subsequent impact on malaria control.
Dr. Enrique Tejera (1889-1980), a brilliant medical doctor and scientist. He continued his work against malaria until his death in 1980.
Dr. Arnoldo Gabaldón (1909-1990), a great visionary who desired eradication of malaria. His success was extraordinary.
Distribution of malaria (red area) in 1937, on the left. Distribution of malaria in 1980, on the right.
Source: National Institutes of Health with GIMP

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4193164/ For readers interested in more technical medical analysis see link.

Universities: 1960’s

Richard Barnes

John Gunther’s Inside South America gives a concise overview of universities in South America in the 1960’s. Gunther had a gimlet eye towards those who were slightly to the right of Franklin Roosevelt, whom he would debrief after his trips to the continent. I say this only to note that his perspective was left-of-center. As far as education, he was a Deweyite. So his comments on universities in South America — comments which apply to Venezuela — are “friendly” — he did not think they were controversial in that day, the day of Kennedy’s Alliance for Progress, and Johnson’s Great Society:

“South American universities differ markedly from ours in many respects. Students in some schools have such freedom that they do not even have to attend classes, and scholastic discipline is lax. (Of course, this is true in England and much of Western Europe too.) … Education is a serious matter. A student is apt to take himself much more seriously than ours do; to be a student is practically to be a member of a profession. Most students are passionately political, and many are Communists or Communist-inspired. Student councils are powerful, and actively assist in the running of most hemisphere universities and … have an official voice in appointing faculty members to positions of tenure. This has been a rule for a long time in several South American institutions.

“[T]he national university is theoretically exempt from search or seizure by army, police, or other government authorities; students have, in a word, immunity from arrest.

“….[Students feel] liberated all over the continent. Their political self-consciousness and assurance have increased ever since [the early 20th century]. Having the right of refuge, they have more temptation to defy authority. Moreover, the universities became convenient asylums for bogus students, semi-students, and the like….

“Students make demonstrations, cripple the continuity of teaching by prolonged strikes, and take political sides…it is part of the profession of being a student. As to Communism it is undeniable that there are strong Communist or extreme left-wing elements today in almost all the national universities, both in the faculties and student bodies….

“Student violence should be taken with a certain perspective…. When a student throws a rock at a window this is not an example of mere hooliganism, but part of an essential revolutionary mood and mentality. The student has no other way of expressing immediate effective protest [sic!].”

Again, the above is from a friendly source. The schizophrenic nature of intellectuals’ rationalization of indefensible behavior is succinctly captured: students are fully in control, they launch prolonged strikes, yet they have no way of “immediate effective protest.” Glad he cleared that up.

In Venezuela student strikes would often turn violent. To take one example from the mid-60’s: stopping taxis, turning them over, setting them on fire. All for the purpose of supporting a transportation strike.

This problem was not new in Venezuela. In 1896, Richard Harding Davis in Three Gringos in Venezuela told of an American photographer stoned by students and concluded with these remarks: “And I am sure that the Venezuelan fathers would do much better by their sons if they would cease to speak of the University in awe-stricken tones, but would rather take away the boys’ revolvers, teach them football, and thrash them soundly whenever they caught them soiling the walls of their alma mater with nasty verses.”

When news outlets were quick to “report” that the mob who attacked Vice-President Nixon and his wife in 1958 were angry students, many, if not most, throughout the country knew that those mobs were instigated by Communist agitators and such was later confirmed. As recently as 2005, during my visit, a government organ celebrated that event and praised the Communist Youth for their actions and leadership in the mob attack. 

In mid-1960’s United States (the time of Gunther’s visit in Venezuela) most institutions still saw the university’s purpose as the transmission of culture, of civilization. John Henry Newman put it this way, “…a habit of mind is formed which lasts through a life, of which the attributes are freedom, equitableness, calmness, moderation, and wisdom; of what… I have ventured to call the philosophical habit of mind.”  

Russell Kirk expands further, “…genuine education is something higher than an instrument of public policy. True education is meant to develop the individual human being, the person, rather than to serve the state. We tend to ignore the fact that schooling was not originated by the modern nation-state. Formal schooling actually commenced as an endeavor to acquaint the rising generation with religious knowledge: with awareness of the transcendent and with moral truths. Its purpose was not to indoctrinate a young person in civics, but rather to teach what it is to be a true human being, living within a moral order….”

Too many fail to grasp that student protest behavior in an otherwise civilized society significantly increases the power of the state, which ostensibly is contrary to what students want. However, notice to whom the students appeal in such disruptions. Is it not to the state? Is it not to compel or urge the state to take such and such an action or to prohibit this or that speech or behavior, even to the criminalization of thought and belief? How many such major student protests appeal to the Triune God? None come to mind.

Some insist that such protests merely promote anarchy. That is obviously true in many cases; however, anarchy also ends up increasing the power of the state, which will restore immediate order and then see to it that it is ever-present to prevent a repetition of such actions.

A few years after Mr. Gunther’s visit to Venezuela, Columbia University in New York City was “occupied” by student protesters. Their actions included defecating into the college president’s office wastebaskets.

And a year after that, Berkeley riots were dealt with by then California Governor Ronald Reagan, who had no patience with the intellectuals’ justification of such behavior.

A measure of the effectiveness of anarchic actions can be seen in the number of pages in the federal register. The register had 14,479 pages in 1960 compared to 97,110 in 2016. In that span of time, there were only two years with significant reductions from the previous year: from 87,012 pages in 1980 to 63,554 pages in 1981; and from 97,110 pages in 2016 to 61,949 pages in 2017. Other than those two years, the numbers have skyrocketed since 1960. And this doesn’t even consider state and local regulations.

Educational institutions bear a major responsibility for this increase in the intrusiveness of the state, as they produce our leaders in thought, politics, and morality.

I am in great sympathy with the students in Venezuela who today protest at the tyranny under which they struggle. I want them to “win.” Many have been killed.

However, do they realize that they were not well served by their predecessors, who, in effect, rioted and struck and protested in favor of a system akin to that which rules there now? That’s a harsh thing to write and it hurts to write it. But sometimes the truth is harsh. May we learn to pause in order to ponder what brought us to this point. As we’ve seen in prior posts and will continue to see in future posts, Venezuelan, and much of South American history is more reflective of the French Revolution than of the American. This helps explain, at least in part, what has brought us to this pass.

Pray for Venezuela.

Mr. and Mrs. Richard Nixon attacked by student mob in Venezuela in 1958
Génesis Carmona, former Venezuelan beauty queen shot dead at a student protest in 2014
Miguel Castillo shot at point blank with smoke grenade by “security police” who then rode away (2017)
Students “liberate” Columbia University in 1968 (New York City)
Berkley University riots in 1969. The actions of the “students” were beyond filthy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2j4ndg51BQ
Gov. Ronald Reagan rebukes the students and the faculty of Berkeley University
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fx6_9z3ujik
In the same press conference Governor Reagan accuses a professor, “You are a liar,” to his face. This, at a time when words meant something. The sound is not the best.