Time - Man of the Year/Time_Man_of_the_Year_Compact_Publishing_3YX-Disc-1_Compact_Publishing_1993.iso/moy/021792/0217005.000

Text File | 1992-10-19 | 6KB | 121 lines

                                                                                WORLD, Page 41

VENEZUELA

No Time for Colonels


A coup fails when civilians prove unwilling to trade their
government, however flawed, for a military dictatorship

By BRUCE W. NELAN -- Reported by Laura Lopez/Caracas and J.F.O.
McAllister/Washington


    In the darkness just before midnight, columns of tanks
and troop carriers rumbled into the streets of four Venezuelan
cities last week, intent on overthrowing the civilian
government. Paratroops and armord units in Caracas, the capital,
converged on a nearby air base, the Miraflores presidential
palace and La Casona, the official residence of President Carlos
Andres Perez.

    But the target of the coup had already left his house and
slipped through a secret tunnel into the white, hilltop
Miraflores palace in the center of the city. Miraflores offered
him no security, however, for tanks lined the surrounding
streets and the rebels opened fire with mortars and machine
guns. Perez and an aide dashed back through the tunnel and drove
to a private television station, where the President made
several tapes denouncing the rebellion. As they were being
broadcast to the nation, he telephoned his Defense Minister. "No
negotiations," he ordered. "Give them lead."

    Perez was able to return to his office a few hours later.
Most of the armed forces had remained loyal, and air force F-16
jets strafed rebel positions, blocking their movements and
disrupting their communications. The coup leader, Lieut. Colonel
Hugo Chavez Frias, 37, dressed in combat gear and a red
paratrooper's beret, turned himself in 12 hours after the
shooting began, but warned that the military might find "another
occasion." More than 1,200 rebel soldiers surrendered, including
136 officers. Officials said as many as 7,000 of the 73,000
troops in the armed forces may have taken part in the uprising,
in which 80 soldiers and civilians died.

    Coups fail more often than they succeed, and this one
barely got rolling before it was halted. It was organized by a
tightly knit group of middle-level officers -- lieutenant
colonels, majors and captains -- and it gained no significant
support from the generals or civilian power brokers. The big
surprise was that it took place in Venezuela, where multiparty
democracy has been the rule for more than 30 years. The last
serious coup attempt was in 1962, and most observers thought the
country had overcome the old habit of military intervention.

    President Perez thought so himself. "There will not be a
coup here," he said when rumors of rebellion swirled last
December. "It is an offense to Venezuelan society to mention
such a thing." But danger warnings had been increasingly visible
since Perez introduced an austerity program two years ago to
bring the overheated economy under control.

    Living standards have been steadily declining since the
oil-rich days of the 1970s, when government largesse fueled a
decade-long boom. By February 1989, protests against reduced
subsidies and higher prices had turned into rioting and looting
that left 300 dead. Disconhas simmered ever since, with
occasional regional strikes and violent student demonstrations.

    The oil-based economy took a leap forward during the gulf
war, which boosted GNP 9.2% last year, the highest growth rate
in Latin America. But the gap between rich and poor only
widened: there is little trickle-down to the nearly 40% of the
population living below the poverty line. The pinch is hurting
the armed forces as well. Though they asked Congress in December
for $216 million in health and housing benefits over the next
four years, along with a 50% pay raise, the legislature has not
responded.

    The plotters apparently believed that popular discontent
was sufficient to swing the citizenry to their side. Over the
years, the officers had made little secret of their intentions
or their motives, though no one paid much attention. Calling
themselves the Bolivarian Military Movement, they pledged
allegiance to the country's liberator, Simon Bolivar, and
accused the government of being a corrupt "oligarchy" out of
touch with the people.

    For the coup makers, the shock was that their move
generated so little support. The military high command stood
with the government; and the Venezuelan people showed that
despite their unhappiness with the economy, they were not ready
to give up on democracy. Still, some Venezuelans were concerned
that the people did not turn out to demonstrate their support
for the government or at least their rejection of military
coups. In a straw poll taken after the coup, the opposition
paper El Nacional found that most citizens rejected the idea of
a dictatorship -- but thought the country's democratic system
has lost some of its fundamental values. "What worries me most,"
says former President Rafael Caldera, who is now a Senator, "is
that I don't find the same fervor for the defense of democratic
institutions among the people."

    Those who know Perez well say he will continue with his
austerity program to show he is not intimidated. He might
encourage Congress to raise army pay, but to counter fears that
the coup attempt left him entirely too beholden to loyalist
officers, he will not concede the military a role in politics.
If the threat of a coup has ended, Perez's real test will
probably come in next year's presidential elections. After
showing their passive commitment to democracy, Venezuelans will
be entitled to register their active discontent with their
government at the ballot box.