When Paraguay’s President Fernando Lugo was impeached on June 22 in a lightening-quick legislative manoeuvre, the hemisphere was shocked, with some governments calling it a “parliamentary coup” and refusing to accept the vice president sworn in as the new president.

The episode exemplifies the current dilemmas facing Latin American democracies –twenty-first century presidents are ousted today by apparently democratic means of social protests, congressional opposition, or Supreme Court decree rather than old-fashioned military coups. These constitutional clashes between branches of government and between elected governments and their citizens represent in one sense democratic progress. But at the same time they reflect the continued struggle of rural and urban poor to share power with the dominant elite, and the use of formal legal mechanisms to impose one political vision over another.

In the Paraguayan case, after sixty years of governance by one political party (and thirty-five of those by one man), citizens elected an independent priest without a strong party or social movement to support him. His proposals to reform an extremely unequal distribution of land, 80 percent of which is owned by a fraction of the population, were stymied by a Congress controlled by two political parties representing the interests of landed elites.

A clash between police and land-occupying peasants resulted in several tragic deaths on both sides. Whereas in other countries facing similar clashes over natural resources –and distribution, mining projects and failure to protect environmental preserves– the police chief or minister of the interior might be replaced, in the Paraguayan case the traditional parties in the Congress aimed higher, using legal impeachment procedures to force out a president. Lugo was given less than 24 hours to prepare his defense, and a two-hour trial in the Senate. The Organisation of American States and many neighbouring governments questioned whether due process and right to a reasonable defense were practiced, and refused to recognise the new government.

The use of constitutional mechanisms to carry out political power struggles is certainly an advance over the use of force. But when constitutional processes are carried out in dubious manners, they harm the credibility of democracy across the region.

Similar impeachment measures have been used to remove unpopular presidents in the last two decades. In 1993, after alienating many factions including his own party with his neoliberal austerity policies, Venezuelan President Carlos Andrés Pérez was forced out by Congress, charged with alleged corruption when he used a presidential reserve fund to provide personal security for newly-elected Nicaraguan President, Violeta Chamorro, in the midst of the ongoing contra conflict in 1990.

In Ecuador, three presidents unpopular for their economic policies were removed from office on shaky impeachment charges: Abdala Bucaram in 1997 on charges of“mental incompetence” though no psychiatric examination was ever done, Jamil Mahuad in 2000 on charges of “abandonment of office” after he had been physically removed by a civil-military junta, and Lucio Gutierrez in 2005 on similar charges of abandonment while he sat in the presidential palace. In 2009, Congress impeached Honduran President Manuel Zelaya after he had been forcibly exiled by the military acting on a secret Supreme Court order.

Underlying many of the constitutional conflicts in Latin America are fundamental disagreements over how, and whether, to achieve a more equitable distribution of national resources while promoting economic growth.

In Paraguay, like Honduras, very little change has occurred in the gross inequities in land distribution during more than two decades of democracy. When urban and rural poor began to use the ballot box and protest to demand change, and gained a champion in the figure of president Lugo inevitable clashes ensued.

The clashes became enmeshed in legal contests between branches of governments as each used its constitutional prerogatives to defend the interests it represented. Whereas the established elite interests “won” the constitutional battle in Paraguay and Honduras, forcing out presidents advocating change for the poor, in other cases indigenous and social groups were able to force out leaders pursuing conservative economic policies, such as the repeated ousters in Ecuador and Bolivia.

Until Latin American societies are able to reformulate the fundamental social pact, through tax reform and consensus on redistribution and growth policies, to address the fundamental inequities in the region with the highest average income gap in the world, countries will continue to face political volatility even in the age of constitutional democracy. (END/COPYRIGHT IPS)

* Jennifer McCoy is director of The Carter Center’s Americas Program and political science professor at Georgia State University.

By Jennifer McCoy and - -
ATLANTA, Dec 10 2007 (IPS)

In a constitutional referendum on December 2, voters in Venezuela sent a clear message to their president: \’\’Slow down,\’\’ writes Jennifer L. McCoy, political science professor at Georgia State University, and director of the Americas Programme at The Carter Centre in Atlanta. In this analysis, McCoy writes that President Hugo Chavez\’ own supporters refused to do what he asked – vote on his constitutional reform proposals as if it were a personal loyalty test to him. Venezuela could profit from this experience if all sides (and the US too) learn the lessons and capitalise on the opportunities it provides. International actors should not underestimate the capacity of the Venezuelan people to provide broad constraints on their government, even when institutional checks and balances are practically non-existent. As long as President Chavez follows the electoral path, the Venezuelan people will determine how far they will support his ideas, and when to put on the brakes.

This was Chavez’ first electoral defeat in his nine years in office. The fact that he accepted the results, and that the electoral authority actually reported a loss, surprised many. That it took nine hours, instead of the promised two, to announce the results should not come as a surprise. In extremely polarised contexts, leaders often need time to adjust to a surprising defeat, and to consider how they and their victors should present the results to their supporters to avoid clashes in the streets.

Venezuela could profit from this experience if all sides (and the US too) learn the lessons and capitalise on the opportunities it provides.

For the president, at least three lessons are crucial. The first is that he needs to broaden his circle of advisors and encourage debate among them. The closed system of information within the presidential palace means that advisors may be afraid to bring bad news to the leader, and that healthy debate is stifled, leading to rigidity, out-of-touchness, and surprise results as on Sunday.

The second lesson for the president is that he has accomplished one of his goals — to bring visibility to ”invisible” citizens. Many previously marginalised Venezuelans now seem to feel empowered and represented by the president, so empowered that many refused to support him. But they also want concrete results — to lower the 18 percent inflation, to end the shortages of basic goods, to control corruption and high levels of crime. Increasing government efficiency and enlisting private sector collaboration to tackle these serious problems seems to be the demand of the average Venezuelan, above the vague concepts of 21st century socialism.

The third lesson is the change in the opposition. Both newly-dissident chavistas and longer-term political opponents acted responsibly after their victory. They did not gloat, but instead asked for dialogue and offered to support some of the president’s more popular proposals such as social security for self-employed workers. The president now has a golden opportunity to test the opposition’s sincerity by accepting their offers, instead of denigrating them.

The ”new” opposition appears to be already learning that participating in the democratic game can pay dividends. The ”fraud” card adopted after the failed 2004 recall referendum hurt them in subsequent elections as their supporters stayed home, and had the most dramatic impact in the boycott of the 2005 legislative elections leaving the national assembly comprised 100 percent of Chavez’ supporters. This time around, the extensive safeguards over the electoral system negotiated over the last several elections led moderate opposition leaders to reject the immoderate charges that the National Electoral Council had padded the results to make Chavez’ defeat less embarrassing to him.

With a huge post-election audit of the paper receipts from 54 percent of the electronic voting machines and a quick count from the domestic observer group Ojo Electoral both confirming the outcome, it is hard for either side to credibly question the results. Granted, the campaign process leaves much to be desired: the inequitable news media coverage in favour of the government’s proposal, the government’s access to extensive petroleum revenues, and a still inadequately-audited voter’s list remain to be fixed.

The way that new actors energised the ”No” vote should also not be lost on the political opposition. A newly-awakened student movement and dissidents from within chavismo itself focused people on the substance of the proposals rather than making it a referendum on the president. Wether this disparate group can capitalise on the moment and forge alternative political messages for those who wish to compete against Chavez will be tested in 2008.

President Chavez’ first electoral loss leaves him far from defeated. The opposition did not gain many new voters; instead, Chavez lost 40 percent of his voters compared with the 2006 presidential election. But he still commands significant popular support as well as control over the main national institutions, extraordinary petroleum revenues, five more years in office, and six more months of legislative-decree power. He will continue to try through all of these routes to implement his agenda, but he will be more successful if he listens more to his citizens.

The final lesson from the December 2 vote is for international actors. We should not underestimate the capacity of the Venezuelan people to provide broad constraints on their government, even when institutional checks and balances are practically non-existent. As long as President Chavez follows the electoral path, the Venezuelan people will determine how far they will support his ideas, and when it is time to put on the brakes.(END/COPYRIGHT IPS)

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By Jennifer McCoy and - -
ATLANTA, Dec 12 2006 (IPS)

Hugo Chavez\’ re-election on December 3 concludes a year of elections in Latin America in which nine countries chose candidates reportedly left of centre and three chose candidates reportedly right of centre, writes Jennifer McCoy, Professor of Political Science at Georgia State University and Director of the Americas Programme at The Carter Centre in Atlanta, Georgia. In this article, McCoy writes that the electoral debates essentially came down to two themes: how much of a priority to put on fighting poverty, and how to define a country\’s relationship with the US and the global economy. Extremely close elections in Costa Rica and Mexico, and run-offs in Brazil, Peru, and Ecuador demonstrated that there are seriously divided countries in the region. Much of Latin America also shares deepening nationalism and an abhorrence of US unilateralism. What the new leaders across the board face is the dilemma of meeting the high expectations of frustrated citizens while navigating the real constraints of economic globalisation and weak state capacity and institutions. These constraints can draw a country together under strong leadership and well-organised interests with a national vision, or they can destabilise a country that is factionalised and lacks a sense of shared national identity and purpose. The post-election year of 2007 will determine which direction each will go.

Commentators have attempted to distinguish between the rise of the ‘pragmatic Left’ in Argentina, Brazil, Chile and Uruguay, and the newly-elected ‘radical Left’ in Bolivia, Ecuador, Nicaragua, and Venezuela.

However, these countries, along with those further to the ‘right’, have more in common than these labels imply. The electoral debates essentially came down to two themes: how much of a priority to put on fighting poverty, and how to define a country’s relationship with the US and the global economy.

The debate over poverty centres on market-oriented strategies versus more statist-oriented ones, but both well within the capitalist camp. This is, of course, tied to the international debate as candidates have taken pro and con positions vis-…-vis free-trade agreements with the United States and adopted or rejected the anti-imperialist rhetoric of Hugo Chavez. But the absolute need to address growing citizen frustration at stubborn poverty and rising income inequality was clear throughout this year of elections.

Even the ‘radical Leftists’ may not be all that radical after all. In Nicaragua, president-elect Daniel Ortega, who was vigorously opposed in the campaign by the United States and helped by Venezuela, has accepted the free-trade agreement with the US and has already met with the IMF, World Bank, and US government in the weeks since his November 4 victory to reassure his own private sector and international financiers of his goals. He aims, in fact, to build a grand coalition to fight poverty in Nicaragua, after a decade of little progress under conservative governments. Ortega will most likely strive to balance a relationship with the US, on which Nicaragua is economically dependent, and with Venezuela, which can provide the energy help it desperately needs.

Bolivian President Evo Morales used strong language regarding nationalisation of oil and gas resources and voiced strident criticism of the US. But his ‘nationalisation’ strategy is actually the implementation of a law passed under the previous government that required the renegotiation of foreign contracts to give the Bolivian state a majority share of mixed enterprises and raised taxes and royalties. Morales has also vigorously sought to persuade coca growers to reduce production and has increased interdiction of illegal drugs in Bolivia. And he has toned down his anti-US language since his first-ever visit to the United States in September.

Even in Venezuela, where 1960s-era Marxist intellectuals are scattered throughout the government, Chavez has recognised that the old-style socialism is no longer viable, and he is inventing a new model which he calls ’21st century socialism.’ His promises to deepen the revolution in 2007 must be played out before we can fully evaluate this vaguely-defined concept or his economic goals. Thus far, 21st century socialism has included using oil revenues to redistribute resources to the poor through government subsidies, cash transfers, and welfare programmes — not a new thing in Venezuela. It has included some controversial rural and urban land reform and the revival of state-owned enterprises in certain sectors to compete with the private sector. But it has not gone much beyond those limits in economic terms.

We are also witnessing countries that are seriously divided, demonstrated in the extremely close elections this past year in Costa Rica, and Mexico, and run-offs in Brazil, Peru, and Ecuador. Polarisation especially marks countries like Venezuela, Bolivia, and Mexico, where even geographic divides can be identified and deep political conflict sporadically threatens to erupt into ungovernability and violence.

Much of Latin America also shares a deepening nationalism and an abhorrence of US unilateralism, from the Iraq War to the Mexican border wall. Does this mean that Chavez will become a regional leader with his renewed mandate? Certainly he is influential, with Venezuela’s oil wealth and his personal mission to combat US global and regional dominance. Washington’s single-minded focus on Iraq and the Middle East since 2001 opened a vacuum in Latin America that Chavez was happy to fill. His criticism of the US, though personalised and crude, resonates with people unhappy with US arrogance, even while embarrassing others.

The Bolivarian Revolution, however, is not easily replicated or exported as a model. Based on extraordinary oil revenues, personal charisma, and a willingness to concentrate power, the conditions giving rise to and sustaining the Bolivarian Revolution are not all present in any other country. These conditions include a near tripling of the poverty rate from the 1970s to the 1990s with its accompanying sense of exclusion and rage, the deinstitutionalisation of a strong party system over the course of the 1990s, and a seven-fold increase in the price of Venezuela’s major commodity during the Chavez administration.

What the new leaders across the board face in Latin America is the dilemma of meeting the high expectations of frustrated citizens while navigating the real constraints of economic globalisation and weak state capacity and institutions. These constraints, when present, tend to be equalisers and moderators. They can draw a country together under strong leadership and well-organised interests with a national vision, or they can destabilise a country that is factionalised and lacks a sense of shared national identity and purpose. The post-election year of 2007 will determine which direction each will go. (END/COPYRIGHT IPS)

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