[R-G] A Chávez Ally Jumps the Divider

[Anthony Fenton]

Weekend Edition
November 17 / 18, 2007
A Chávez Ally Jumps the Divider
Of Submarines and Loose Screws
http://counterpunch.org/maher11172007.html

By GEORGE CICCARIELLO-MAHER

On November 5th, retired general Raúl Baduel shocked many in  
Venezuela and abroad by delivering a prepared statement condemning  
the proposed constitutional reform and urging a "NO" vote on December  
2nd. The shock felt by many and the outrage by some is no doubt the  
result of such a high-level defection: until July, Baduel had served  
as Venezuela's defense minister. But this position in and of itself  
fails to express the mythical status that Raúl Baduel had garnered  
among Chavistas in recent years. To grasp both the popular shock at  
Baduel's defection and its inevitability, we need to look more  
closely into a history spanning nearly three decades.


Operation Restore National Dignity

Alongside Chávez, Baduel was a founding member of the Revolutionary  
Bolivarian Movement (MBR-200), a clandestine grouping that formed in  
the early 1980s within the Venezuelan Armed Forces. This group of  
conspiratorial idealists was rooted in the parachute regiment at  
Maracay, a stiflingly hot city of a million some two hours west of  
Caracas, from where they began to chart an escape from the corruption  
and repression of the late Fourth Republic. Together, they swore a  
Bolivarian oath under the historic Samán de Güere, a massive tree  
under which Simón Bolívar is said to have rested.

But when it came time to act, Baduel himself was notably absent. In  
an interview, he told Marta Harnecker that he chose to sit out the  
1992 coup attempts because he considered them premature. While Baduel  
has been often criticized for this decision, he wasn't entirely  
wrong: the coup itself, however necessary for what followed, was  
indeed premature and poorly organized. But other aspects of Baduel's  
concerns prior to the 1992 coup stand out. "What will happen to the  
military structure?" Baduel recalls asking himself, "What are we  
going to do with those with a higher rank than us? They can't be  
subordinated to us because a fundamental element of military life is  
verticalism." Baduel, in this 2002 interview, even prophetically  
jokes about having felt like Eden Pastora, the Sandinista "Commander  
Zero"-turned-Contra who "was not loved by either side, because some  
said he had betrayed them and others that he had infiltrated them."

Sitting out the 1992 coups did not spell the end of Baduel's  
relationship with the MBR-200. He would maintain contact with the  
imprisoned leaders and support Chávez's eventual bid for political  
power in the 1998 election, and in 1999, Baduel was named commander  
of the 42nd Parachute Infantry Brigade, Chávez's own regiment in  
times past. While his reticence to participate in the 1992 coup had  
cast a long shadow over Baduel's revolutionary credentials, his  
mythical status would be cemented a decade later, when he nearly  
single-handedly spearheaded the military response to the April 2002  
coup against Chávez.

Why did Baduel, for whom a respect for the military hierarchy had  
prevented action in 1992, choose to break with that very hierarchy a  
decade later when it had turned against Chávez? Because by then  
another crucial element had intervened: the new 1999 Constitution. In  
1992, the conspirators were all clear that, in Baduel's own words,  
"the ruling class wielded the existing Constitution, but applied it  
according to their own interests." In 2002, on the other hand, the  
coup-plotters and the military hierarchy (but crucially, not the  
middle ranks) had moved against the new "Bolivarian" Constitution.  
Confronted with a conflict between his two primary values, loyalty to  
military structure and loyalty to the Constitution, Baduel finally  
decided to act. He declared the 42nd Brigade in open rebellion  
against the illegitimate interim government of Pedro Carmona Estanga  
and initiated "Operation Restore National Dignity," thereby providing  
the spark that allowed the majority of loyal officers to turn against  
the coup. This loyalty to the Constitution was repaid: within two  
years, Baduel would be named Army Commander, before becoming Defense  
Minister in 2006.


Two Visions of the Military

In the aftermath of the failed coup and Chávez's return to power,  
Baduel would come to represent the quintessence of loyalty and  
moderation in the popular imaginary. It was not until he passed into  
retirement in July 2007 that the public was given any glimpse of  
potential discord between this hero of "April 13th" and the direction  
of the revolutionary process. Baduel took the opportunity of his  
retirement speech to urge caution when it came to Chávez's proposed  
project of "21st Century Socialism." He praised socialism as a  
concept, but warned against its state capitalist manifestations: "Our  
socialism must be profoundly democratic," he counseled, one focused  
on the redistribution of wealth and the correction of inequalities.  
Further, he distanced himself from the view that "the division of  
powers is merely an instrument of bourgeois domination," arguing that  
such division, generally associated with liberal constitutionalism,  
remains essential.

But Baduel wasn't the only general to retire last July: he was joined  
on the stage by Alberto Müller Rojas. But while Baduel waited until  
retirement to court controversy, Müller was retired in an effort to  
silence it. Earlier in the year, Müller, a member of the commission  
responsible for founding the United Socialist Party of Venezuela  
(PSUV), had spurned existing law by joining the PSUV while on active  
military duty. Military neutrality, Müller argued, is a myth, and one  
which stands alongside professionalism as twin pillars of reactionary  
military organization. Advocating a recognition of the inherently  
political role of the military alongside the development of a broad- 
based and popular militia structure to offset military hierarchy,  
Müller urged that the current process of constitutional reform be  
used to clear the way for this new vision.

Müller was promptly assailed by moderate Chavistas, who accused him  
of giving in to opposition claims of military politicization. What  
happened next offers a window into the shadowy corridors of  
Venezuelan power: Chávez joined in the attack on Müller, insisting on  
the apolitical and professional nature of the Venezuelan military,  
and the impertinent general was duly ostracized from the president's  
inner circle for daring to suggest the sort of militia structure that  
Chávez and so many other Venezuelan officials had proposed in the  
past. Clearly, a message was being sent to the military hierarchy.  
And that message was to momentarily divert attention away from the  
question of military politicization. This became clear when Chávez's  
constitutional reform proposal was released, which conformed almost  
point-for-point with Müller's arguments. If approved in the December  
referendum, the reformed Article 328 will mean that the military will  
no longer be an explicitly "apolitical" institution, but would  
instead be characterized as "patriotic, popular, and anti- 
imperialist." Moreover, Article 329 would convert the existing  
reserve into a more institutionally powerful force referred to as the  
"Bolivarian Popular Militias."

But the intrigue didn't end with the story of Müller's ironic  
ostracism. Shortly after the reform proposal was released, Chávez  
announced that, after consultations with the military high command,  
the new militia force would be known as the "Bolivarian National  
Militias," rather than "Popular" ones. What is more interesting than  
this seemingly-minor semantic change is the (presumably powerful)  
political pressure that must have intervened to make such a change.


Jumping the Divider

While Müller Rojas wasted no time in courting controversy, Baduel's  
day in the spotlight wouldn't come until November 5th, less than a  
month before the scheduled constitutional reform referendum. On  
November 4th, Chávez had warned that someone might soon be "saltando  
la talanquera," or "jumping the divider" between Chavismo and the  
opposition. Such a statement wouldn't be surprising to anyone who has  
observed the recent controversies over the formation of the PSUV,  
which saw one of the larger members of the Chavista coalition, the  
social democratic PODEMOS party, essentially expelled to the no-man's  
land between Chavismo and the opposition. But the fact that Chávez  
offered an explicit warning may have indicated to some that something  
serious was afoot.

The next day, Baduel appeared at a press conference from which state- 
run Venezolana de Televisión was notably excluded. What he said  
stunned millions, for whom he had come to represent the epitome of  
loyalty. In his own words, Baduel (a self-professed Taoist) had  
"taken some time to reflect and meditate" on the course of the  
country. His conclusion: that the 1999 Constitution is sufficient.  
Far from being a fetter to the revolutionary process, Baduel argues,  
the Constitution has yet to enter fully into force. The document, he  
argues, "does not in any way impede the exercise of a socialist  
government, with high levels of inclusion and broad social content."  
But what socialism does Baduel endorse? This he doesn't say. But when  
he suggests that the word could be applied to anything from the  
Cambodian Khmer Rouge to Nordic social democracy (which he  
revealingly deems "socialism"), it is clear where his loyalties lie.

Echoing his retirement speech, Baduel reiterated his devotion to  
liberal constitutionalism: "constitutions should limit and control  
power and constitution that deregulates and removes limits from power  
should be seen with suspicion." Constitutions, in short, have a  
fundamentally negative role: they limit power rather than em- 
powering. This liberal constitutionalism dovetails nicely with  
Baduel's liberal socialism: having achieved a division of powers and  
mild redistribution of wealth, no further action is necessary. Any  
efforts to radicalize the process by undermining the division of  
powers becomes for Baduel a "usurpation," and he claims that, if  
approves, the current constitutional reform proposal "would  
consummate, in practice, a coup d'etat, shamefully violating the text  
of the constitution."

Notably, Baduel calls on the Armed Forces to "profoundly analyze the  
proposed text," and implores the population as a whole to use "the  
only legal and democratic weapon we have left," the "NO" vote on  
December 2nd. But for our purposes, what is most interesting is  
Baduel's departure from his own script. When it came time for him to  
call on the Armed Forces, Baduel entered into a long excursus on the  
nature of the military, in which he read in full the current  
definition of the military as an apolitical and professional  
institution. While the military question was relatively absent from  
the rest of his speech, this unscripted addendum leaves little doubt  
both as to Baduel's motivations and his relationship to the Müller  
controversy. Not only does the reform undermine liberal  
constitutionalism, but it also threatens military professionalism. We  
would be justified in wondering if it was Baduel himself who, for the  
sake of his vaunted "verticalism," intervened previously to force out  
Müller and to pressure Chávez to change the proposed name of the  
Bolivarian militias.


The Bends

Perhaps unsurprisingly given Baduel's celebrated status, the response  
by Chavistas to his declarations has been a deafening outpouring of  
rage. Chávez has claimed that Baduel is "betraying himself" and  
betraying their 1982 Bolivarian oath under the Saman de Güere. The  
President, we should recall, is by this point no stranger to high- 
level defections. "When a submarine gets deeper the pressure  
increases," he reminds us, "a loose screw can pop out." This metaphor  
resonates with the entire history of the process: as the Bolivarian  
submarine has plumbed new depths, a variety of such screws have  
wiggled their way out. Most notably, several longtime allies like  
1992 coup veteran Francisco Arias Cárdenas and longtime Chávez  
political advisor Luis Miquilena jumped ship for the opposition in  
2000 and 2002, respectively (Arias Cárdenas, bizarrely, would return  
to the Chavista ranks after running against Chávez in presidential  
elections). But according to most, this has been good for the  
process, overcoming inertial tendencies, strengthening Chavista  
identity, and allowing the revolution to forge radical new paths.

Many have echoed the claims of treason, and some, like Mario Silva of  
La Hojilla, have pointed out that Baduel had openly endorsed even the  
most controversial elements of the proposed constitutional reform  
until only two weeks earlier. Even some more heterodox members of the  
Chavista coalition like the Patria Para Todos (Homeland for All)  
party have taken aim at the fallen hero. Some claim that Baduel is  
bitter over his forced retirement, or at not being named head of the  
state oil company PDVSA. Some cite rumors that Baduel will be seeking  
election as head of his home state of Guarico.

While pillorying the retired general's treason, however, Vice  
President Jorge Rodríguez did give him credit for channeling his  
discontent through democratic means by urging voters to participate  
in the reform referendum. But Müller doesn't view things this way: a  
close examination of Baduel's claims, he argues, shows a more  
sinister aim. Baduel's accusation of usurpation, for Müller, is a  
very precise call for rebellion against the government. That is, by  
accusing the government of a coup, he is in fact justifying the same.  
Baduel's position, then, becomes doubly ironic: if Müller is correct,  
this will be the second time that Baduel will have encouraged but not  
himself participated in an attempted coup. He will be the golpista  
menos golpista in Venezuelan history.

But the most intriguing and revealing part of this long saga wouldn't  
be played out until Müller Rojas was invited on the VTV evening  
program Contragolpe (which coincidentally could translate as  
Counterpunch). Müller had been invited on to give his opinion on the  
Baduel affair, and proceeded to explain that he had never considered  
Baduel was a committed revolutionary. Indeed, in the past, Müller has  
criticized Baduel's policies while serving as defense minister,  
policies which according to Müller hindered the government's military- 
civilian integration. The show then received a call from Chávez  
himself, who had not spoken to Müller publicly since their  
acrimonious falling-out in July. He publicly thanked the retired  
general for the sharp and incisive advice he had always offered, and  
insisted that he would be in touch in the near future. This was a  
public apology, and a recognition that Baduel's more conservative  
opposition had come between the president and Müller's proposed  
radicalization of the military.

Error or Treason?

Some, however, have refused to accuse Baduel of treason: Luis Tascón,  
a National Assembly deputy from Táchira state who tends toward the  
radical wing of the government recently claimed that Baduel isn't a  
traitor. According to Tascón, Baduel mustn't be attacked on moral  
grounds, but only political ones. "I don't support Baduel," Tascón  
later clarified, "What I said was that Baduel is my friend, I respect  
him, I appreciate what he did, but I think he is wrong, totally  
wrong." Tascón chose his words carefully, but evidently not carefully  
enough: he was promptly expelled by the disciplinary committee of the  
nascent PSUV for his declarations.

Raúl Baduel is two things: he is a loyal soldier and a rigid  
constitutionalist. Nothing can take that away from him. But loyalty  
to military hierarchy and the constitution doesn't necessarily (or  
even frequently) make one a revolutionary. His support for the 1999  
Constitution, the same support which spurred him to action in 2002,  
has put him at odds with a new round of constitutional reforms. But  
this opposition is fundamentally rooted in Baduel's own liberal  
constitutionalism, military traditionalism, and social-democratic  
temper: the Revolution, he is saying, has gone far enough, and it is  
here that he comes into conflict with the very constituent power he  
claims to be shielding from "usurpation." When he claims that the  
executive and legislative branches the constituent power of the  
people, we are left wondering where exactly that power resides. The  
only answer, for Baduel, can be division: he cannot conceive the  
constituent as an indivisible Rousseauean "General Will," but only as  
a system of liberal checks and balances. This, however, has never  
been the Bolivarian project. As one commentator on the webzine  
Aporrea.org puts it: "Only one question, Baduel my friend: did you  
not realize what was going on during the past eight years?"

This isn't to say that there is no cause for concern in the current  
constitutional reform proposal, or even that the division of powers  
is to be so readily dispensed with. Despite the many positive  
elements of the proposal, there are nevertheless disagreements to be  
had. But Raúl Baduel's departure from the revolutionary ranks is  
rooted in much deeper divergences that made this moment, painful for  
many who had come to respect his loyalty, more or less inevitable.  
His views on "socialism," the military, and the Constitution, are not  
those of the government, and nor does he seem to care if they reflect  
the desires of the people. Even if the Venezuelans approve the reform  
come December, as it seems they will, this will still be a "coup"  
against the Constitution in Baduel's eyes.

George Ciccariello-Maher is a Ph.D. candidate in political theory at  
U.C. Berkeley. He can be reached at gjcm(at)berkeley.edu.