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Chávez’s debut

Por: | 06 de marzo de 2013

The Monday night of February 3, 1992, I was coming home after having dinner and drinks with a few colleagues from The Daily Journal, the now-defunct English-language newspaper in Caracas, Venezuela where I worked for six years. It was a typical weekday late evening in the Venezuelan capital with so many noisy mini buses ferrying workers home across the city while  popular merengue tunes blared from their drivers’ radios. We lived just on the edge of downtown, not far from the suburbs, but a reasonably close distance from the center where the newspaper’s offices were located.  The Daily Journal, considered Latin America’s oldest English language daily, was widely respected across Venezuela because of its nonpartisan stance. I had two jobs at the time. In the early mornings, I produced a daily 15-minute English program on Radio Nacional de Venezuela that was broadcast across the globe on shortwave, so weeknights meant getting to bed as early as possible. As I was heading home on the por puesto, as the micro buses are known, I noticed a lot of police and military vehicles headed the opposite way toward the center of town. When I got home I fell asleep but a few hours later a startling rap on the front door suddenly woke me. Golpe de estado, my stunned elderly neighbor announced.

I switched on television to see the images around Miraflores presidential palace surrounded by tanks and young soldiers - many looking scared - brandishing their automatic weapons in menacing gestures. No one knew where President Carlos Andrés Pérez was. For months, there had been rumors about discontent within the military because of the deteriorating economy, bleak social conditions and rampant public corruption. But repeating rumors in Venezuela was, and continues to be, a national pastime. Who was behind the coup was the $64,000 question; not even the television newscasters, who fortunate enough were left unbothered to continue to do their jobs and provide excellent on-the-scene coverage, knew exactly what was happening.

I phoned my co-workers at the radio station and newspaper and we decided to sit tight for the time being. Still, my concern was getting the news out to the world on the shortwave bands and in English. It would take a few more years before the “super information highway,” now known as the internet, would become a household outlet to the world but back then a country’s national radio was the prime source of official news and regularly monitored by the BBC, VOA, RFI and other major broadcasters. Our station wasn’t a powerhouse, but at 50 kilowatts it could still be easily picked up across Europe and North America.

Needless to say, there was no more bed rest for the entire evening or the day that followed. Fighter jets roared over our neighborhood at seemingly random intervals while distant gunfire added to the haunting ambiance that permeated across the city. State-run television station Venezolana de Televisión, channel 8, had been taken over by rebel troops but they didn’t know how to work the controls to get their message on the air. From Zulia state, the identity of one rebel finally emerged. Lt. Col. Francisco Arias Cárdenas of the self-proclaimed Bolivarian 200 Revolutionary Movement had full control of Maracaibo, Venezuela’s second largest city and the country’s petroleum producing hub. It was only a matter of time before Caracas fell. But at 3.30am, a weary and worried President Pérez, standing alongside the Venezuelan flag before a black curtain backdrop, finally came on air on the private Venevisión television network demanding that all the rebels retreat to their barracks while assuring loyalists that the situation under control. It was later learned he barely escaped with his life running through the underground tunnels of Miraflores Palace.

At daybreak, I decided to head off to the station. For a normally bustling Latin American capital, Caracas was dead silent. The streets were empty so it was easy to get to Radio Nacional’s studios without any problem. The rebels never took over the radio station, which was heavily guarded. My French- and Haitian Creole-speaking colleagues and I went straight to work to prepare our  respective broadcasts. By 7am we were on the air and managed to get out nine transmissions at each half hour in four languages. Shortly before noon, when I knew it was near time to get back out on the streets and head on over to The Daily Journal’s offices, all television stations went to a live nationwide broadcast in which it was announced that the leader of the coup had finally been captured and would address the nation. Heavily escorted, the young and serious-looking soldier wearing a red beret, the stamp of a Venezuelan paratrooper, was paraded in front of clicking cameras inside a paneled conference room. He was identified as Lt. Col. Hugo Chávez Frías. In his brief remarks, he thanked those who supported him and asked his rebel soldiers to lay down their weapons, but punctuated his call with the following message: “the cause is lost for now.” Along with the image of a bold, assured man who seemed unconcerned that he would probably spend the rest of his life in prison, that phrase resonated with Venezuelans for the years to come. By the time it was over, at around 5pm on February 4, 133 officers and 956 soldiers had been arrested for taking part in the coup.

He hadn’t been defeated. After another coup attempt that following November led by his supporters and a disgraced exit by Pérez, who was ousted from the presidency for misusing a secret national security fund, Chávez, pardoned by President Rafael Caldera, found that his time finally came when Venezuelans swept him into office in 1998. Fifteen years later, el comandante, who died at age 58, has left behind an uncertain future and a country as bitterly divided as it was in 1992.

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VENEZUELA, ¿y ahora qué? - Venezuela un lugar de contradicciones graves - Datos y análisis gráfico de la infra-utilización de los Recursos de una Economía Emergente - Completa visión gráfica -

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may he rest in peace and may God forgive him

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Authors (Bloggers)

Chris Finnigan is a freelance journalist based in Barcelona. He writes for Barcelona Metropolitan and is a book reviewer and reader for The Barcelona Review. He is a graduate of the London School of Economics. You can find him on twitter @chrisjfinnigan

Ben Cardew is a freelance journalist, translator and teacher, now resident in Barcelona after growing up gracefully in Scotland via Norwich. He writes for The Guardian, the NME and The Quietus, among others, on everything from music to digital media. You can find him on Twitter @bencardew

Fiona Flores Watson is a freelance journalist, guide and translator who has lived in Seville since 2003, and has been a writer and editor for more than 20 years. She writes for the Guardian, Telegraph and Sunday Times Travel Magazine. Originally from Essex, Fiona is also Consulting Editor of and has her own blog, Scribbler in Seville. She has been contributing to Trans-Iberian since 2014 and tweets at @Seville_Writer

Jeff Brodsky is a freelance writer. He arrived in Barcelona in 2013 via an admittedly indirect route, living in Chicago, Arizona, Seville, Amsterdam, North Carolina and Madrid. Despite not having stepped foot in Seville for over five years, he still speaks Spanish with an Andalusian accent. Jeff’s writing has been published in newspapers and magazines in America and Europe.

Koren Helbig is an Australian freelance journalist and blogger enjoying a life of near-eternal sunshine in Alicante. She writes for publications in Australia, the United States and the United Kingdom, focusing on stories exploring smart and positive approaches to social issues. She hangs out on Twitter at @KorenHelbig and keeps a selection of her favourite stories at

Julie Pybus lives in a small off-grid house on a hillside in Catalunya. She usually focuses on helping charities and social enterprises with their publications and websites, but has also written for The Guardian, Country Living and The Observer. Julie launched and runs a hyperlocal website which endeavors to increase understanding between the different nationalities in her area @JuliePybus

Paul Louis Archer is a freelance photographer, multimedia storyteller and artist educator. A cross-disciplinary worker, who endeavors to encompass the mediums of photography, audio design and writing. Born in Hertfordshire of an English father and Spanish mother. Based in the United Kingdom. @PaulLouisArcher

Vicki McLeod is a freelance writer and photographer. She has lived in Mallorca since 2004. Vicki writes about her beloved island for The Majorca Daily Bulletin, the only daily English language paper in Spain; produces regular columns for the Euro Weekly News, and articles for Vicki runs PR strategies for several businesses in Mallorca and London as well as working on her own blogs and projects. She and her husband, Oliver Neilson, supply photo and text content for private clients via @phoenixmediamlr. She tweets at @mcleod_vicki.

Born in Newcastle upon Tyne and based in Barcelona, Alx Phillips writes about contemporary art, dance and theatre in a way that human beings can understand. For more previews, reviews, interviews and extras, check:

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