Venezuela – Page 8 – The Pull Of The Land

Leaving Venezuela — 1966

May 18, 2022May 18, 2022 Richard Barnes

Researching and writing about the Bogotazo — whose repercussions are with us still — elicited a few childhood memories which, for what it’s worth, I’ll document here.

I left Venezuela in 1966, fully intending to return to live there one day. See Playa Hicacos, 1966 for my personal recollections of that year in my childhood, which was yet another tumultuous year in Latin America.

My intentions never materialized because, as the Spanish aphorism puts it, “El hombre propone y Dios dispone” (“Man proposes and God disposes”), loosely based on Proverbs 16:9, but quoted in classic Spanish literature such as Don Quijote. So, although I was able to visit a number of times, especially summers during student years, I never returned to live there again.

Nevertheless, as Whittaker Chambers put it in his magisterial Witness, “No land has a pull on a man as the land of his childhood.” And that pull is still with me.

In that era, “globalism” was an unheard-of term. Large companies, such as Bethlehem Steel and United States Steel, were known as “American” companies, whereas today such seek to be known as “global” companies, with minimum, if any, loyalties to the United States, regardless of their founding or corporate headquarters.

American families were stationed in myriad and distant spots across the continents and the early schooling of their children was addressed by establishing schools modeled after those of the origin state of the company. So, for instance, the Bethlehem Steel school in El Pao was generally modeled after the norms of state schools in Pennsylvania. So, as an example, when those schools required standard tests for the elementary schools across the state, those very tests were also administered to us.

As far as I know those who attended the school in El Pao did well once they transferred to the United States.

And they usually transferred at an early age. I was 12 years old when it was my turn to transfer, and I was not an exception.

We travelled to Miami for annual leave, but my stomach churned a bit that year because I knew that at the end of that vacation, I would not be returning with my family to Venezuela. We nevertheless enjoyed our visit with family in Florida and the Northeast. I was happy to see the Langlois Motel in Miami again. Our family had been staying there for years and it was a favorite of the cousins and us.

What I most remember, though, was the farewell at the Miami International Airport. Back then we had no obstacles to staying with travelers in the Pan American Airways waiting lounge and then at the gate.

My father and mother said their farewells to my aunt and cousins, as did my sisters. Then they each embraced me and expressed their hope to see me again at Christmastime. I bravely succeeded in holding my tears and keeping my voice from cracking as I hugged back.

Then we waved good-bye as they left the terminal and disappeared into the plane.

My aunt and cousins and I walked back to the parking lot, exchanging few words, but I could tell they were a bit anxious about me. I just wanted to get back home and find a spot where I could be alone.

But my aunt had other plans. She drove us to Miami Beach. I asked why are we going there, especially at this hour? “Oh, just for a ride.” Then I understood she was doing her best to distract me. I was not a happy camper for that, but I kept it to myself. The radio played that week’s top song, “Cherish”, performed by The Association. It seemed a bit too treacly, even for a 12-year-old, but what did I know. It became one of the very top songs of that year.

Then “Eleanor Rigby” by The Beatles came across the airwaves. That song, about loneliness, was more in tune with my sense at the moment. As the only surviving relative of Eleanor Rigby put it in an interview in 2008, “A lot of time has gone by, and Eleanor’s side of the family has run out. They were ordinary, hardworking folk, the Rigbys — joiners, bricklayers, farmers, and the like — not the kind of people you expect to go down in history. And now there’s nobody left.”

That about encapsulates my anomie back then.

Days later one of my cousins told me they were very surprised I had not broken down. I assured her that I had indeed broken down — inside.

Months later I learned that on the plane, a gentleman who sat across the aisle from my father had leaned over and told him about having been left in the United States years before in circumstances very similar to ours. Only in his case, the parents were headed back to Germany. He had noticed our farewells and wanted to assure my parents that all would be well. But he did not sugar coat it: he said that, even after so many years, he still gently grieved whenever he thought of that day.

The reader should keep in mind that in 1966 communication with El Pao was via short-wave radio. Or mails. It was like going to the other side of the earth.

Psychedelic drugs and English fashion — Carnaby Street, Twiggy, Alfie — were “in” and for young folks it was difficult to tell the difference between genuineness and just plain marketing and promotion. Regardless, it seemed the world was going upside down and that the self-centeredness of Alfie generally reflected western mores at the time.

As the American and British scenes seemed to careen off course, South America was wracked by coups and a violent Cordobazo in Argentina, further Communist infiltration into the highest echelons of the military in Venezuela, and, by 1966, La Violencia had caused the abandonment of over 40% of the arable land in Colombia.

So, as we asked, “What’s it all about?” the seeds of upheaval continued to be sown in abundance in Latin America. And the harvest in Venezuela became most apparent in the 90s and to the present day.

Pan American ticket counter, Miami International Airport, circa 1960

Michael Caine in *Alfie*, 1966. The song was composed separately as a promotion song and became a surprise hit.

“Eleanor Rigby died in the same house where she had been born, was interred in the graveyard of St Peter’s Church, and had her name added prominently on an increasingly crowded headstone.” — *The Daily Mail.* She had married 9 years earlier and then discovered she could not bear children. She died of a massive brain hemorrhage a month after the outbreak of World War II. She was much loved by her family.

El Bogotazo: Aftermath

May 9, 2022May 9, 2022 Richard Barnes

‘During the bloody civil war of 1948-1953, a group of bandits burned the home of a wealthy Conservative landowner, killed his foreman and two sons, ravished his daughter, and left the owner wandering dazedly before his flaming hacienda. In shocked horror, the man mumbled over and over, “¿Pero porqué?” — “But why, why?”

“And the scornful answer was: “Porque usted es rico y blanco” — “Because you are rich and white”‘

Vernon Lee Fluharty, quoted in Guerrilla Movements in Latin America

Readers of this blog (see, for example, War to the Death) know that violence and savagery in South America was inaugurated, not by Spain, but by men such as Simón Bolivar and his French Revolutionary ideology. Note that the reply quoted above addressed envy and race, “You are rich and white”. It said nothing about El Bogotazo.

“Certain techniques of death and torture became so common and widespread that they were given names, such as ‘picar para tamal‘, which consisted of cutting up the body of the living victim into small pieces, bit by bit. Or ‘bocachiquiar‘, a process which involved making hundreds of small body punctures from which the victim slowly bled to death. … quartering and beheading were … given such names as the ‘corte de mica‘, ‘corte de franela‘, ‘corte de corbata‘, and so on. Crucifixions and hangings were commonplace, political ‘prisoners’ were thrown from airplanes in flight, infants were bayoneted, schoolchildren … were raped en masse, unborn infants were removed by crude Caesarian section and replaced by roosters, ears were cut off, scalps removed….” (ibid).

Readers might think that we are dealing with violence and ferocity unparalleled in modern times. However, if one includes the French Revolution and the Russian Revolution in “Modern Times”, as most historians do, then such savagery as cited above is not unparalleled. A cursory reading of The Black Book of Communism will disabuse anyone of thinking such violence was unique to South America. It is a common thread throughout the history of Jacobinism, whether Robespierreist, Marxist, Maoist, or whatever stripes.

As the avalanche of savage murders and violations crashed down on Colombia, blaming such on El Bogotazo ought to have been seen for what it was: a diversion from its actual antecedents.

But history persists in blaming that event of early April, 1948, for a “decade of mayhem” except that the mayhem began at least two years before. What it lacked was a pretext. El Bogotazo provided that.

The immediate aftermath of El Bogotazo were the deaths of at least 3,000 persons.

By the mid-1950s, that toll had risen to 135,000 direct killings, the vast majority of which were peasants. One thing about Communism: it is historically consistent in mostly killing the people they claim to represent.

Students of this period, known as La Violencia, estimate that the toll was closer to 200,000 when one includes those who died from their wounds. And these figures do not include the tolls of forced displacements and disappearances.

One thing is very clear for anyone willing to put the effort to read beyond Wikipedia, The New York Times, and the like: La Violencia was in no way, shape, or form an “indigenous uprising”, nor was it something in the “genes” of Spanish-American descendants. This was the product of an ideology alien to our upbringing; an ideology which, as Simón Bolívar himself put it, served to destroy centuries of a civilization which was truly a wonder once one steps back and considers (So Close to God).

Fidel Castro returned to Havana having understood the scope of the vast upheavals caused by inflaming envy and unleashing mob passions. He put this understanding to good use throughout his career, including in Venezuela.

Schoolchildren “conscripted” by Communist guerrillas, Colombia, circa 1953

Displacements are a toll that’s difficult to quantify, but we must note its harsh reality.

Manuel Marulanda (seated), known as “Tiro-Fijo”, one of many maniacal murderers unleashed during *La Violencia* (see Playa Hicacos).

El Bogotazo III

May 3, 2022May 3, 2022 Richard Barnes

Fabio Grobart arranged for a delegation of four University of Havana “students” to go to Bogota. Two would participate as delegates to the “anti-imperialist” Latin American Student Congress which, portentously, was organized to occur simultaneously with the conference inaugurating the Organization of American States (OAS). See El Bogotazo II for details.

The other two were sent as “matones”, gangsters to engage in sabotage and disturbances in the streets.

Grobart’s intent, in line with the Comintern’s instructions, was to ensure the hand of the Soviets was nowhere to be seen in the events in Bogota, albeit should his actions succeed, the Soviet objective of forestalling the creation of the OAS would be realized.

By looking at the events in Bogota with a critical eye on the age-old Cui bono analysis, contemporaries would have had a good idea who and what were behind the tragic events. But surely, with seven decades worth of hindsight, the Cui bono is clear to all except those who will not see.

Fidel Castro was one of the two “gangsters” whose orders were to create havoc in the streets of Bogota. The other was, like Castro, a member of the violent Unión Insurreccional Revolucionaria (UIR). The teams traveled separately to Bogota.

Castro met with Jorge Eliécer Gaitán on April 7, 1948, and arranged to meet with him again two days later to finalize arrangements for his speech at the “anti-imperialist” congress of students meeting alongside the OAS conference.

On April 9, Gaitán had spent most of the morning at his office, near the OAS conference. After noon, he left his office and headed towards the newspaper offices of El Tiempo where Castro had arranged to meet with him. He had not gotten very far before a man rushed up to him and shot him three times at point blank range.

The alleged assassin was found inside a drug store and a frenzied mob dragged him out and literally kicked him to death, disfiguring him so badly that his features were unrecognizable and identification had to be made from documents in his person: Juan Roa Sierra, a Gaitán supporter with a history of mental illness. He had been heard begging the police to not let the mob kill him and witnesses claim he was not near the scene at the time of the murder.

To quote from Keesing’s Contemporary Archives:

“Within a few minutes [of the assassination], armed mobs began looting and setting fire to buildings and stores in the centre of the city, the United States Embassy being the object of a fierce attack …. The Capitol which housed the [conference inaugurating the OAS] was also devastated and a great quantity of the equipment of the conference, together with its records, destroyed or looted …. Delegates suffered considerable hardships due to the interruption in food supplies, power and light services, and other services in Bogota where fires raged for days.”

According to Weyl’s Red Star Over Cuba, two witnesses testified they had heard Roa Sierra say he was going to serve as bodyguard for two foreigners who were going to a desolated area of the country. One of the foreigners was Rafael Del Pino, who was known to have been in contact with Roa Sierra 90 minutes before the murder. Del Pino was one of the “matones” sent from Cuba along with Fidel Castro. These two Cubans fled to the Cuban legation in time to avoid arrest.

To this day, Castro’s presence, let alone participation, in El Bogotazo, is denied or obfuscated. But his fingerprints are all over that murderous event, and even Fidel-friendly accounts by such as Herbert Matthews confirm his presence. The events in Bogota were a great success for the objectives of the Communists in that they destabilized society for well over a decade, while also eliminating Gaitán, who although a fervent leftist, would not support the Communists. These horrible events created the sandbox in which Communist mischief could flourish. Such has been repeated, before and since, globally, especially in Venezuela (not to mention recent chaotic events in the United States, such as the destructive summer riots in 2020).

Although for many, El Bogotazo may seem to be ancient history, of interest to a small coterie of Cold War buffs, it actually speaks to us today, because we continue seeing the same strategies and tactics. When you read about “massacres” and “mass graves” and “assassination plans” and “spontaneous eruptions of oppressed peoples” and so forth, you are well-advised to consider the source and follow the money or at least the Cui bono.

And, especially, consider whether the usual suspects are involved.

That’s a dead giveaway.

El Bogotazo II

April 26, 2022April 27, 2022 Richard Barnes

The prior post in this series (El Bogotazo I) reviewed Fidel Castro’s violent career in Cuba during high school and college, including arrests and questioning for suspicion of murder and more. This is important background for today’s post, which picks up in 1948, when the United States, concerned by Communist infiltration throughout Latin America, recommended the creation of the Organization of American States (OAS), an idea which was quickly seized upon by South American countries.

The function of this new organization was to provide a forum for the nations in the American continent to meet to discuss and address regional problems. For example, fast forward to 1962: President Rómulo Betancourt demanded and got the expulsion of Cuba from the OAS given repeated, proven attempts by Fidel Castro to subvert and overthrow the government of Venezuela, including shipments of armaments and men to Communist guerrilla groups operating under Castro. See Spurning Fidel.

The OAS was to be inaugurated during an international conference taking place in Bogota, Colombia in April, 1948. Although one could argue the site was appropriate, nevertheless, one could also argue that the timing was all wrong. Colombia was gearing up to hold presidential elections less than two years later, in 1950, and the Unión Nacional de Izquierda Revolucionaria (UNIR, translated “National Union of the Revolutionary Left”) were vocal in asserting those elections would be won by their candidate, Jorge Eliécer Gaitán, a radical leftist populist.

Gaitán’s extremist nature was obvious, as witness his frequently repeated motto: “If I advance, follow me, if I retreat, push me, if I betray you, kill me, and if I die, avenge me! To the charge!” His bellicosity was not empty rhetoric. A few months before the OAS conference, he called for a march against the conservative government, “The March of Silence”, to which over 100,000 came, many of them fully armed.

To add to tensions, Rómulo Betancourt, who had assumed the temporary presidency of Venezuela by means of a military coup d’etat, and who was still known for his Communism, which was later abandoned (see Envy), had signaled his support for Gaitán and did not denounce rumors signaling that should the elections be fraudulent (interpreted to mean, should Gaitán lose), Venezuela would support the overthrow of Colombia’s conservative government. Talk about chickens coming home to roost: a little over a decade later, Betancourt led the expulsion of Castro from the OAS for having sought the overthrow of his government.

Opposed to the creation of the OAS, Argentina and the Soviet Union agreed together to sabotage it by surreptitiously financing a conference of Latin American “students” to denounce “Yankee aggression”, meaning the creation of the OAS. This conference would be held simultaneously with the OAS inauguration conference. The Soviet Union and Argentina sought to capitalize on the smoldering animosity between Colombia and Venezuela as well as the anti-American Zeitgeist in Latin American universities.

Argentina emerged from the Second World War as a major economic power. However, Juan Domingo Perón, yet another leftist military leader (see Right-Wing Military for discussion on military leftism) helped overthrow its government in a military coup and was its dictator from 1946 to 1955. He was very anti-American and had close ties with Nazi Germany and later the Soviet Union. Like all good Communists, he took Argentina from economic dominance to massive expropriations and economic decline. Argentina eventually became the poster child of hyperinflation which was eventually broken in the 1990s.

Perón and Stalin were determined to cause chaos in Bogota. They promoted, financed, and ensured the inauguration of the Congreso Estudiantil Latinoamericana (Latin American Student Congress) to be held alongside the assembly creating the OAS. The promotion and organization of the students to attend that congress was headquartered in Havana, Cuba, led by Fabio Grobart. The Congress itself was to be led by Gustavo Machado. And the star attraction of the Congress would be none other than Gaitán himself.

That would be the fuel. The lit matches would be groups of revolutionary Latin American students from all geographic points, directed from Argentina. These would travel separately and converge in Bogota a few days before the inauguration of the OAS. Their objective was to engage in violent street actions and sabotage operations ostensibly to prohibit the establishment of the OAS. The hard-nosed reality behind their purpose was actually to foment chaos.

Among the student groups traveling to Bogota would be a handpicked group of four from Havana, Cuba. And one of the four was Fidel Castro, fully in his element.

Juan Domingo Perón (1895-1974). Similar to Hugo Chavez, Perón was very charismatic and remained popular despite disastrous policies which did great economic harm to Argentina. He was overthrown and exiled in 1955 by a militar coup. Nevertheless, from exile, he used the Argentinian left and the Communist guerrillas to sow widespread chaos and lawlessness, eventually paving the way for his return to power in 1973.

Joseph Stalin (1878-1953) was yet another left-wing military leader who was diligent and successful in creating havoc, chaos, and death in the bloody 20th century. His “alliance” with the United States and England during World War II allowed unprecedented Soviet access to allied military and diplomatic sources which harmed the West and from which she has yet to fully extricate.

Rómulo Betancourt (1908-1981), circa 1945, a time when his sympathies continued to lean heavily to port, creating long-lasting animosity with neighboring Colombia, and throwing fuel to an increasingly volatile environment.

Jorge Eliécer Gaitán (1903-1948). “If I advance, follow me, if I retreat, push me, if I betray you, kill me, and if I die, avenge me! To the charge!” He was assassinated in April, 1948.

Voices From the Past

April 18, 2022April 18, 2022 Richard Barnes

A dear cousin’s re-discovery of some old letters (from the 50s) stirred recollections of the years I lived in Miami under the tutelage of Aunt Sarah and Uncle Luis, whom we called Uncle Wichy.

Five decades ago, our paternal grandfather’s side of the family met in Miami for the wedding of one of his granddaughters. Twenty of us met for that event, and, although several had met separately on different occasions over the years, all twenty of us did not meet again for over three decades afterwards, when we had a family reunion in December, 2006.

By then, five had died, eight marriages had been celebrated, and numerous children had been born. And so, we decided to celebrate a family reunion where the remaining fifteen could meet once again. Adding spouses and children who were able to come, the group that day numbered forty-six, mas o menos.

Since December, 2006, five more have passed away, including Aunt Sarah, the last surviving child of our paternal grandfather. The last member to have passed away was my cousin Max (Papaito), who died December 19, 2021.

This post borrows from a recollection I wrote about fifteen years ago about that family reunion in 2006, which I hope gives a little sense of our gratitude towards one another and to God.

We gathered in a one-bedroom condominium near the beach, overlooking the inter-coastal waterway. This type of arrangement we were used to as children when sometimes as many as 20 cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents plus assorted visitors gathered annually in Miami in a small, one-bathroom house whose address and telephone number we still know by heart.

For many years, that house was home as we’d leave Venezuela to go to school in the States. In this way, family history repeated itself, in that, a generation earlier, our own parents had to leave Cuba to go to school in Massachusetts and while there they all stayed in an uncle’s house and learned to live with one another and to appreciate one another and to love one another. Thus, for two generations, these extended families were quite close, and our challenge is to instill that sense of communion to the third and fourth generations who are already amongst us. It won’t be easy, and it won’t be done as it was when our parents lived in Cuba and we in Venezuela. But it can be done.

Funny how all seems laughter and joy looking back. Well, in a real sense, it was laughter and joy, because, although there may have been fights and misunderstandings and even bitterness for a time, it all turned out to a strengthening of and appreciation for our generational bonds. And that is certainly cause for laughter and joy.

So, at the time, while Tom may not have appreciated Jack’s sticking a straw in his eye; and Jack may not have understood Tom’s declaring his brain to be upside down; and while Julie detested wearing everyone’s hand-me-downs, even the boys’; and while Dan could show his displeasure by throwing a shoe through the wall (names have all been changed to protect the guilty); etc., those of us who remain, appreciate and love one another today. We wouldn’t change events, even if we could.

Our beloved Aunt Sarah would ensure we all went with her to church every Sunday morning. We all remember how, at the conclusion of each service, the choir would sing the beautiful benediction, The Lord Bless You and Keep You (from Numbers 6). Easter Sundays were very special as she would get us up well before dawn and drive us — in more ways than one — to the coast to attend sunrise services. As we grew older and more resistant to such early reveille, she resorted to threats, such as, “Wait till I tell your parents!” That would work for some, but not all. But we were always very glad we went.

She would also insist on outings, usually on Sundays after church. How she put up with our bickering, our foot dragging, our resistance to going anywhere, we’ll never know. Maybe she anticipated how, at the end of every single one of those outings, we would be enjoying ourselves so much, we would not want to leave. Maybe she knew they were for our benefit and that one day we would appreciate them. Maybe she was simply a very determined lady, whom we all loved.

And, for the most part, we can thank her for telling us about Jesus. That’s some heritage to leave to sons, daughters, nieces, and nephews.

As for Uncle Wichy, I can say, with all honesty, he scared the living daylights out of me. Once, upon arrival from the airport, I, about 7 years old, was greeted by him, whom I had not seen for a year, with, “Now remember, if you misbehave, you’ll get Pow-Pow”! I stared in stunned silence as he roared with laughter.

He took us deep sea fishing and “lobstering”. Once, while pulling up a lobster trap, the lines and eventually the trap caught in the ship’s propeller, destroying trap and catch. We continued talking and fishing as if nothing had happened. He rebuked us quietly, “This is a great loss for José (his friend who had agreed to take us along) and I feel very bad about this.” Even though José told him it was nothing and “Don’t worry about this; this is a typical loss” still Uncle Wichy fretted the rest of the day and into the night.

He mellowed with the years, and we grew to understand his love and genuine interest and concern for us. He died in 1995.

Besides Aunt Sarah, our paternal grandparents had three sons: Uncle Max, Uncle Charles (“Charlie”), and Uncle Alfred. Both my father, Charles, and Uncle Alfred were murdered. Uncle Max died in 2007, less than a year after the family reunion. Uncle Alfred never married, but the first two did and their wives, Tía Carmencita and Tía Adita, regaled us with their stories for years afterwards….

As we shared pictures and music in 2006, we recalled these things and much more. And we were grateful our own children were able to attend.

My mother, Tía Adita (91) is the last surviving family member of that generation who was in that 1972 photo.