The Most Boring Presidential Election Ever

“The most boring elections in Colombian politics are the presidential elections.”

Sitting in her office on the forth floor of a high rise office building overlooking downtown Bogota, Alejandra Barrios Cabrera pontificated on the upcoming poll. The national director of Colombia's Electoral Observation Mission (Mision de Observacion Electoral) believed that her organization, a non-partisan group dedicated to protecting political voice and ensuring free and fair elections had better things to do with with their time and resources than to observe what was largely seen as a foregone conclusion.


As I walked the rainy streets of Bogota today on election day Sunday June 20th, her words couldn't have seemed more apropos. Despite the abundance of wetness provided by the rain, Colombia has been completely dry since Friday, thanks to the nationwide ban on all alcohol sales until the Monday morning following the election. The atmosphere on the relatively empty streets was extremely subdued, the regularly lively streets seemed dead. The heightened police presence was felt, however, as I passed through a checkpoint before entering La Plaza Bolivar in front of the Supreme Court and Congress. Presumably there to either protect the electorate, or suppress opposition, depending on your point of view, officers seemed to outnumber voters on this day of “free and fair” elections in South America's oldest democracy.


As a part of my journey to Colombia on an exchange between the Colombian national teachers union (FECODE- Federacion Colombiana de Educadores) and the American Federation of Teachers, I was excited to see democracy in action in a nation whose internal politics have seemed infinitely complex to a novice such as myself. Prior to my arrival five days before the presidential poll I had exhausted the mainstream English language press for analysis of the upcoming election. In early May, before the first round of voting (the equivalent of our primaries), according to the New York Times the Green Party candidate Antanas Mockus, a former Mayor of Bogota known for his unorthodox antics and a staunch stance on ending Colombia's patronage system and state-wide corruption was leading in the polls. The first round of voting on May 30th, however, ended with very different results, as Juan Manuel Santos, the successor to current president Alvaro Uribe received well over double the votes of Mockus, the only other challenger with significant support. Despite being part of an administration plagued by scandals and accusations of war crimes, Santos proved to be a political force too immense for the opposition parties. His road to the presidency was smoothly paved in what would appear, ostensibly, to be an approval of the policies of the Uribe administration.


The past 8 years in Colombia have welcomed a new era. On one hand, due to a take no prisoners military policy the FARC (a Marxist guerilla group that has been engaged in an armed conflict with the state over the past fifty years) has been pushed to the margins of the country and has dwindled both in membership and in their effects on greater Colombian society. Combined with the austere implementation of neo-liberal economic policies, an increase in American aid and a dramatic increase in military spending, Uribe has strengthened ties with the United States at the expense of Colombia's relations with its neighbors.


According to many of the people I have met, however, the era of Uribe has been anything but prosperous. Attacks on organized labor have continued unabated, as well as the forced displacement of thousands of people living in proximity to mineral resources, oil and points of embarkation for drug traffickers. Colombia's unemployment, which has decreased, still hovers at around 12%. Colombia still maintains South America's highest inequality in terms of distribution of wealth as well. Despite demobilization efforts right wing Para-Military groups continue to operate with impunity and have a significant impact on both national and local politics.


Santos, a close of associate of President Uribe has been implicated in several actions that appear to undermine the rule of law. One of the recent scandals is referred to here as the “falsos positivos” (false positives). Under Uribe's administration the military was put on a performance based structure with incentives provided for killing larger numbers of members of armed rebel groups. This led in turn to soldiers luring innocent victims far away from the slums into rural areas with promises of job opportunities, murdering them, and dressing them up in FARC clothing. According to some estimates I have heard, these extra judicial killings have reached as many as 3000. While 30 military officials have resigned since the scandal was publicized in late 2008, there have been no prosecutions to date. Santos has been the minister of defense since 2006. During his tenure he has also been criticized for a military operation in which the Colombian army crossed the border into Ecuador to assassinate a former FARC leader who had been a peace negotiator. This action greatly destabilized the entire region for a period in 2008.


By the time the polls closed at 4 pm today it was apparent that Anatanas Mockus had failed to capitalize on what many, including myself, viewed as the glaring deficiencies in the incumbent party candidate. As I watched the counting of the election results on the flat screen TV in a comfortable middle class apartment in central Bogota there was about as much suspense as there had been while watching Brazil route Ivory Coast in a World Cup match earlier in the day. The entire nation's votes, as well as all votes cast by Colombians living abroad were counted in the span of only one hour. In the final analysis, over 55% of Colombians had abstained from voting. Santos won with a majority of 69% of the vote, to Mockus' 27.5%. When phrased another way, Santos received less than one vote for every registered voter in the country. After the election results were finalized as I prepared to leave, my host Jairo Arenas, a union official in charge of communications for FECODE sighed, “The education and health sectors are going to suffer the most.” The dark clouds filling the sky over Bogota appeared to be a sign of the mood of many Colombians as they reconciled with the reality of the coming Santos presidency.

Leon Sultan
Bogota, Colombia
June 20, 2010

*Please leave comments
*Sorry for and spelling or grammar errors
*Photos by author

For more on the “False Positives” scandal:
http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB266/index.htm
For more on the raid in Ecuador:
http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/americas/03/05/oas.colombia/index.html
Unemployment statistics:
http://www.indexmundi.com/colombia/unemployment_rate.html
Election Results:
http://www.registraduria.gov.co/resultados/
Colombian Teacher's Union:
http://www.fecode.edu.co/

In Caracas

As I sat at an outdoor cafe on a pedestrian mall in the district of Sabana Grande, Caracas, waiting for my dinner to arrive, night began to fall and the darknes crept into the corners of this giant city. Under the security of full daylight, this middle class shopping district is littered with businessmen in suits hustling off to meetings, uniformed school children sharing McFlurrys, twenty-somethings coyly eyeing each other in the cafes, and street merchants selling newspapers, coffee, calling cards and hotdogs. As darkness blanketed the area the shop keepers closed up and covered their windows with metal safety awnings, the pedestrian crowds dwindled then disappeared, and a totally different element began to crawl out from the shadows.

By the time I finished my dinner, the economically and socially marginalized population of Caracas had begun to take over the terrain of the middle class. I quickly exited the streets where I clearly no longer belonged and was whisked back to the posch safe-haven of Alta Mira by an air conditioned, French-designed Metro train.

For a tourist, Caracas can be an imposing if not dangerous place. The same can be said for the locals. A city that had less than three million people in 2001, is now home to nearly 5 million, or almost 20% of all Venezuelans1. Caracas, much like the rest of Venezuela is a city of stark contrasts. Standing in downtown, surrounded by museums and instense traffic, looking up at the sky scrapers, I had the sense of being in one of the most modern and cultured cities that the world has to offer. This feeling was not lost when I went to the Modern Art Museum to explore its four sub-terranean floors of fine works, including an extensive collection of sketches by Picasso. Nor was it lost when I strolled through the glitzy Zambil mall, perusing the Diesel, Armani Exchange, and Lacoste boutiques, when I watched the daily yoga classes in La Estancia park, nor when I rode on the speedy, efficient, cheap and always bustling metro system.

Prior to my arrival here, all of the Venezuelans I met had warned me about how dangerous Caracas is, and urged me not to go. Fellow travellers had reported being scammed and robbed, a few by the police none the less, and the general consensus among everyone that I talked to was that Caracas was not a place where I could ever feel safe or enjoy. After my first day here I was astonished and impressed by what the city had to offer. Aside from the myriad museums (all of which are free- thanks Hugo) and fascinating architecture, Caracas has food being sold out of every single nook and cranny. From the hotdog stands on every corner, to the doughnuts waiting for you at the exit of every metro stop, to the shawarma joints, pizzarias and gourmet restaurants of the upscale neighborhoods, to late night arreperias2 and of course the omnipresent McDonald´s, Caracas has no lack of divirsity of cuisine, nor any shortage of on-demand food available whenever and wherever you want. It was only after spending more time here did I begin to realize the difficulties posed by this complex metropolis.

During the past ten years in Venezuela, inflation has averaged 18% 3. The economic strain and ever increasing prices are felt especially hard here the Capital. Luxury goods like designer clothing, and electronics are priced much higher than what one would pay in the US, sometimes approaching double the cost. Normal food stuffs have increased increased as well. One resident informed me that a kilo of rice had nearly doubled in price since the begining of the year. Going out to eat, even at reasonable restaurants, costs as much and usually more than one would pay in a city such as San Francisco for comprable food.
The economic strain has also lead to the problem of biggest concern for residents of Caracas; personal safety, or lack thereof. Out of the five municipalites that comprise the city of Caracas, only one-Chacao-is safe after dark. This fact impacted what I was able to do as a visitor, and severly cramps the lifestyle of the average Caraqueño4. Chacao is safe because it is the wealthiest area, and thus has enough money to hire an adequate sized police force. Unfortunately for those who are less wealthy yet still wish to enjoy restaurants and nightlife Chacao is totally unaffordable.

Life outside of the city center and the modern infrastructure is something else entirely. Many small town and rural residents who came to Caracas over the past thirty years weren´t able to find adequate housing. The result is something akin to the Favellas of Brazil, ramshakle neighborhoods that sprouted up, precariously balanced on hillsids, connected by staircases, not roads. Homes built of corrugated tin and brick, the residents extremely vulnerable to not only to the earthquakes that raize Caracas from time to time, but also to hunger and lack of access to healthcare. It is the residents of these areas that President Hugo Chavez has focussed on, as they were previously not only economically but also politically marginalized. By providing support for those who had previously been forgotten and through a rigourous publicity campaign to inform the general population of all of the support being provided, Chavez became wildly popular not only with the beneficiaries of these programs, but with members of the middle and upper class that possess a strong social conscience.

The continuation of a massive desparity of wealth, a large percentage of people still living in poverty, as well as lack of effective policing have created the situation of widespread insecurity here. The effects of this shared feeling of insecurity spread far beyond diminished nightlife, but are a part of the day to day and minute by minute interactions of people here. In Caracas, I had a sense that people walked throughout the city with walls up, constantly on guard against against the forces of the city itself- the traffic, the crowds, the pollution, and the crime. In contrast to my experience in the rest of Venezuela, I felt alienated from the public, and got the sense of anonymity and disjointedness that comes with living in a city of this size.
I was lucky enough to have one solid contact here and enjoyed some genuine hospitality with her and her family. Many of her aunts and uncles lamented the fall of a city that they used to love, but of which they are now afraid. Finally having a chance to spend some more intimate time with Caraqueños gave me the feeling that despite its cold, hard, concrete exterior, Caracas still has a warm heart at its core. Unfortunately, it seems to be harder and harder to find.

Thanks for reading. Please leave comments.

1-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caracas,
http://www.citypopulation.de/World.html

2- An arrepa is the most typical Venezuelan food staple. It resembles and extra thick corn tortilla. Arreperias are restaurants that served arrepas, cut down the center and stuffed with a variety of toppings of your choosing.

3- the following source is decidedly Chavista and therefor I am using it as a conservative or low estimate. http://axisoflogic.com/artman/publish/printer_26069.shtml

4- A Caraqueño is a resident of Caracas

Beaches and Politics in Venezuela

On July 5th, 2008, Venezuela celebrated the 197th anniversary of its Declaration of Independence from Spain. Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez celebrated the event in the capital, Caracas, alongside Bolivian president, Evo Morales. The armed forces, in full regalia, paraded through the streets of Latin America's most violent city1 in a demonstration of both Venezuela's pride and its military capacity.

Following the parade, Chavez remarked, "No one can stop the revolution, not the US Naval fourth fleet, exactly the opposite, it makes us more resolved." 2 Chavez was referring directly to movements in the Caribbean by the US Naval fourth fleet that has been deployed under the pretext of providing humanitarian aide and fighting drug trafficking.3 Chavez, however, is not buying the official word released by the US government and views the nuclear aircraft carrier stationed in the general proximity of his country as yet another sign that "US Imperialists" are planning an invasion of Venezuela to take control, once and for all, of its oil resources. Chavez continued, "We don t want war, nevertheless, there is an old saying; if you want peace, prepare for war. Those who still wish to bring down this government by force... and who think that an invasion of Venezuela will bring an end to this revolution should not forget that we have arrived, and are here to stay, forever."4

On the same day, only a few hundred miles west of Caracas, on the white sand beaches of Cayo Sombrero, a tiny island in the sparkling turquoise waters just off Venezuela s central coast, upper and middle class Venezuelans took in the sun on yachts and private boats, drinking rum and tropical juice from neon colored plastic cups. As the sounds of reggaeton and salsa blared from the expensive sound systems of the boats, mixed with shouts of drunken twenty-somethings flirting with each other waist deep in the water, Venezuelan independence seemed a footnote, if not forgotten all together. In what has been described to me as a period of polarization in Venezuela, this day was typical of the different worlds that occur here simultaneously.

After the initial declaration of independence, Venezuelans continued fighting for another ten years before decisively defeating the Spanish. Under the military and political command of Simon Bolivar, what is now Venezuela, Bolivia, Ecuador, Panama and Colombia all gained independence in the early 1800s. Influenced by Montesquieu, as well as the French and American revolutions, Bolivar wished to create a giant country, a federation of the liberated Spanish colonies that would make up the northern third of South America. Gran Columbia, as this nation is now referred to, stretched from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Bolivar´s dream, however, was only realized for a brief period before it fractured into several smaller states, all of which survive today. For the next 130 years or so Venezuela was ruled by a series of military figures who ruled by force. Developments in the 1910s would forever change Venezuela´s history and inform much of what is currently happening here; oil began to be exploited.

Over the next 60 years Venezuela would see rapid development of its oil industry as well as new wealth that had never before been dreamed of. Foreign companies were almost exclusively in charge of oil exploration, extraction and refinement. As oil profits skyrocketed an elite class was formed. The vast majority of Venezuelans, however, remained in poverty and the economy of Venezuela did little to diversify itself, focusing instead solely on exporting oil and importing everything else. Since the economy depended so heavily on the price of oil, Venezuela helped to create OPEC in the late 1950s in order to regulate oil production world wide and keep prices high.

By 1958 Venezuela had thrown off the yoke of military rulers and had become a functioning democracy. Despite some minor failed coup attempts along the way, there has been a peaceful transfer of power here ever since. In 1976 the president nationalized the oil industry and Petróleos de Venezuela S.A. or PDVSA was formed.

The high oil prices of the 1970s led to more opulence for the upper class, followed by a depression that coincided with the bottoming out of oil prices in the 1980s and 90s. During the early 1990s, much of Latin America embarked on an economic experiment known as the Washington Consensus, or Neo-Liberal reforms. These reforms shifted the direction of economic policy away from a state centered approach in favor of more market based solutions. The most noted reforms were the privatization of state controlled industries, deregulation of business, liberalization of foreign trade and investment policies, and disciplined fiscal policy in order to control inflation. The economic effects of these policies have been much debated, but the political effects are clear. Beginning in the late 1990s and continuing today, Latin American governments have shifted markedly to the left, partially as a reaction to the perceived failure of US intervention.

In 1998 Hugo Chavez was elected to the presidency of Venezuela, ushering in the current era with a policy that he has dubbed "Bolivarian Socialism". Chavez has focused primarily on using Venezuela´s oil profits to create social aid programs that provide basic services such as education and medical care to Venezuela s still giant population of people living in poverty. At the same time he has been building up Venezuela´s geo-political power in the region through rapid expansion of the military and by providing oil at subsidized rates to countries such as Cuba and Bolivia. More recently he has worked with other leaders in the region to launch the Banco del Sur (Bank of the South) in order to provide an alternative institution to the World Bank for development projects.

I chose to come to Venezuela last year while teaching a high school class on economics. Venezuela has been at the forefront, especially recently, of a movement against the standard forms of development that have traditionally been undertaken by the World Bank and the IMF. Chavez himself has sought to create alternate institutions and has named his form of Socialism after Bolivar in order to distinguish it from the not-so-stellar historical examples of socialism once found in Russia and Cuba. Fortunately, I applied for and recieved a grant from Fund for Teachers, that has allowed my idea to become a reality.

Attempting to give myself as much of a context as possible for understanding my experience here, I did readings from media as well as academic sources prior to my arrival. Throughout my travels so far I have talked to as many Venezuelans from as many backgrounds as possible in order to hear a variety of points of view and begin to understand what people here think about the state of their country and of course of Chavez and his policies.

Much like his North American counterpart George W. Bush, Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez is a polarizing figure. As a champion of the poor, and the creator of Bolivarian Socialism, one would think that Chavez has alienated middle and upper class Venezuelans in favor of the masses of people living below the poverty line. Party lines are not as clear as one would assume at first glance, however, with Chavistas occupying various classes. Somewhat unlike Bush, however, Chavez is more than a president, he is also a celebrity, an entertainer, and the leader of a new political movement. When I asked an older, apparently upper middle class man who works financing both private and public development projects what he thought of Chavez, he responded, "El es loco, pero el dice la verdad al Norte" (He s crazy but he speaks the truth to the North). I have found Chavistas among bright well spoken college students, as well as those who are economically marginalized. As one Columbian refugee who was selling coconuts on the beach stated, "In all my life, he is the only person in government I have ever seen who did anything for the poor".

Criticisms of Chavez run from the dogma of the opposition to well thought out and valid critiques of some of his more heavy handed measures. Every single cab driver I have met so far is staunchly opposed to Chavez. A common criticism from them is that he spends all of his time on trips to other countries, attempting to help those abroad while people in Venezuela starve. Others have pointed to controversial measures, such as setting a price cap on milk leading to a nationwide shortage, as proof that Chavez is meddling too much and not doing the country any good. One retired university professor and artist that I spoke with summed up his feelings about Chavez: " I personally don´t have any problems with Chavez or his government. What I have a problem with is when a government becomes so one-sided and opposed to criticism that they refuse to hear any points of view besides their own, no matter how good they are."

One thing that is mutually agreed upon by nearly all Venezuelans that I have spoken with is the rising concern for personal safety. Robberies, kidnappings and murders have seen a rapid increase in the past ten years and many people have expressed to me their fear of going anywhere at night, or even visiting Caracas. Inflation is also a concern, as a hotel manager reviewed with me the prices of common goods in relationship to the minimum salary here. After crunching some numbers together, I was stuck trying to figure out how working people even afford to eat. While Chavez seems focussed on a restructuring of power relations between the Latin America and the US, if he is unable to address personal safety and food security issues at home it is possible that he will loose his power base and Bolivarian Socialism will be remembered alongside Marxism as a failed experiment of the past.

Despite the problems, I have been amazed nearly every moment I have been down here. From the overwhelming natural beauty of the mountains, forests, rivers and Caribbean coastline, to being invited into the homes of people that I just met, to being able to strike up a conversation with a stranger in a cafe and get his or her candid opinion on a variety of topics. Venezuela has offered me a lot.

In the coming weeks, I hope to discover even more points of view and see a lot more of this fascinating country. Check back soon for more updates.

Leon Sultan
July 7th 2008
Chichiriviche Venezuela

Footnotes:
1- (source: http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=42484)
2- (source: http://www.ultimasnoticias.com.ve/)
3-(Source: http://www.worldpress.org/Americas/3164.cfm)
4-(source:http://www.ultimasnoticias.com.ve/

Photos 2,3 and 6 take by: Marisa Rossman

Other resources:
Venezuelan Newspapers-
http://www.ultimasnoticias.com.ve/
http://www.eluniversal.com/index.shtml
Fund For Teachers Website
http://www.fundforteachers.org/

Nepal Summer 2007

In the summer of 2007, I returned to Nepal forthe first time since living there five years earlier. Below is an article that I wrote during my first week of the trip.


Nepal at a Crossroads.... again.
As I descended into the green valley surrounded by steep forested hillsides I looked through the tiny airplane window out into another world. At the edge of the valley still sit green terraced hillsides, now being joined but the onslaught of new buildings that have been popping up all over the once agricultural edges of Kathmandu. The sky was over-cast, the air humid and rain seemed to be ready to fall at any moment, as is typical at this time of year, during the monsoon months.

On the cab ride from the airport to my guest house I struggled through a typical first conversation with my cab driver who asked where I was from, how old I was, how many siblings I have, why I wasn't married yet, how much money I make, and when I was going to marry a Nepali woman. The parallel structure of this conversation to hundreds that I've had before helped ease me back into speaking Nepali again.

My first few days here were filled with the euphoric feeling of re-discovering a place that I had once called home, and have a special affinity for. I rode my rental bike through my old stomping grounds, the residential neighborhoods of Gairidhara, Siphal, Bhatbattini, Handigoan, and Baluwatar, rediscovering the hidden alleyways, small temples, and corner shops selling everyting from spices, to bulk grains to vegetables to liquor to stoves and appliances.

Kathmandu is a city of multiple, yet distinct worlds. Jutting out from the Royal Palace, Durbar Marg is a street cluttered with shops selling designer goods, Nike and Reebok stores, four and five star hotels, amid upscale bars and restaurants. Prices are equivalent to what we pay in the states. Here can be found the business men, politicians, and their families who have been running Nepal for a while now. A five minute walk from there, you can buy a full meal for 50 cents and sit with day laborers, drinking locally distilled alcohol (raksi) at the end of 12 back breaking hours of labor carrying bricks, that earned them two or three dollars. At Mike's breakfast another 10 minutes down the road, I sat next to two European men in expensive suits who, as a companion pointed out, had made the front page of the newspaper the previous day.

This extreme disparity of wealth, and concentration of Nepal's resources into the hands of a few sparked a "People's Revolution" here about ten years ago. The revolutionaries lead by a high caste intellectual who took the nom-de-guerre Prachanda, called themselves Maoists, and promised to lead a peasant revolution into the cities as Mao had done in China a half century earlier. After several years of low level war fare and resistance in small pockets throughout Nepal, the country broke out into a full scale civil war during the ending months of 2001-- ironically during the time I was here last. This war increased in intensity over the past several years and had cost thousands of lives on both sides, with innocent villagers caught in the crossfire.

During the war elections were suspended - due to a "lack of securtiy"- and Nepal's King Gyanendra consolidated power. Gyanendra's dictatorship, however, overstepped its boundaries last year as he disolved the interim government and jailed many of the leaders of Nepal's political parties. By this time the people had had enough of their leader's response to the war (sound familiar?). Nepalis responded just as they had ten years earlier when they demanded the king step down and form a democratic government. For over a week, people from all over the valley marched on the Royal Palace. There were clashes with police during these marches, and many died, but the indomitable spirit of the people prevailed, and eventually Gyanendra agreed to give up power, and free the political prisoners. Yet another interim government was formed. On the upside of all of this is that the Maoists agreed to stop the war in exchange for amnesty and a role in forming a new government.

So here we stand. Prachanda has emerged from his underground status and graces the front page of the newspapers daily. Former Prime Minister Koirala has again taken over leadership of the country and yesterday announced that elections are finally to be held on November 22nd. For now, the interim government is to decide how much representation each district will receive and how much proportional representation to give to under-represented groups like members of the lower castes and women.

The general feeling that I get from Nepalis is skepticism. They have yet to reap any benefits from democracy, and many and resigned that no matter who's in charge nothing will change. The maoists are in an excellent position at the moment having lay down their weapons and taken up the cause of making the government more modern and efficient.
One thing that almost all Nepalis seem to agree on is that they want to see their country develop. In the past five years Nepal has seem to have taken a step backwards. Many rural development projects were put on hold due to the war, and Kathmandu is well....

The population here has swelled. Rural fighting has forced many to the city for work and safety. Prosperity among the middle and upper class has lead to a ridiculous amount of motorcycles and taxis cramming the streets. This added to roads that haven't been improved at all, and traffic rules that are mere suggestions to be followed at one's own whimsy have given Kathmandu the crown for world's worst traffic. Coming back into the city from a day trip I was caught at the edge of town in a line of buses headed for a bus stop about a mile away. On this one way road, we moved about 30 feet in about an hour. It was so bad that we got out and walked, beating the bus by about an hour.

Despite all obstacles faced, Nepali people never seem to give up. From the women on the side of the Trisuli highway breaking rocks into gravel, to the porters carrying 60kg sacks of rice to remote villages, to the students who work tirelessly day in and day out, hoping to earn a degree that will bring a better future for themselves and their families. It is this perseverance that I most admire, and possibly the reason why I felt drawn back here. Putting the past aside one can only hope that in the future this quality is used by people working together, instead of against each other as was the case during the war.