http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/may/15/hugo-chavez-broke-my-heartBy Sami Kent
I have always been attracted by the romance of Latin America. I was about 13 when I saw the documentary The Revolution Will Not Be Televised and I was utterly taken in. Venezuela's charismatic indigenous leader had been overthrown by powerful vested interests, but came back to power improbably on the strength of his popular support.
For someone who had grown up in Britain during the Blair years, where there was an overwhelming centrist consensus among the parties, the strength of Hugo Chávez's socialist conviction was appealing. As British politicians sought ever-closer ties with the US, Chávez condemned the war in Afghanistan, saying "no se puede luchar contra ningún terror con terror" – you cannot fight terror with terror.
I started to read extensively about the Bolivarian revolution, which seemed to perfectly mix socialism with liberal democracy. This view may seem naive, but I would point to the dramatic increase in literacy, the reduction of poverty, the widespread use of referenda and a new constitution that protected the rights of Venezuela's indigenous communities. I was, however, blind to the creeping authoritarianism of the Venezuelan government.
When Chávez refused to renew the licence for RCTV in 2006 I felt that I had lost a hero. I had printed his face on a T-shirt, which I have not worn since that day. It was not the dictatorial move as depicted in some of the media, but for me the purity of the revolution had been lost. After that, I have felt increasingly alienated from a political movement and a president I had once adored. Now I cringe when I see him describing Robert Mugabe and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as brothers, or comparing Angela Merkel to Adolf Hitler.
Last year I went to a conference on Venezuela's progress after 10 years of revolution, shocked to hear speaker after speaker ignore his treatment of opposition, his expulsion of human rights activists (fittingly, for claiming the country was slipping towards totalitarianism), or his temporary defence of a drug-dealing and murderous Farc.
Even now, however, I cannot completely shake off my fondness for him, nor have I lost the instinct to defend him – once you have invested that much hope in one person it is extraordinarily difficult to let it go. I hate to think that one of the first articles I have written is against el Presidente, agreeing with some neocons whom I despise.
Chávez has never been an intellectual or a democrat; he is primarily a soldier. He has shown himself to be extremely aggressive in his confrontation with Colombia, almost bringing the two countries to war. I don't want to sound patronising or bourgeois, but I have come to conclude that a significant shortcoming of the Bolivarian revolution was its lack of intellectual movement – it was based on a military man's charisma and his vague notions of imperialism, rather than a clear philosophy.
It is hard to accept that something you once loved, and something that other people once loved, is no longer a popular idea. My interest in South America recently took me to Chile where I watched several presidential election debates – the candidates were asked which leader in South America they thought had done the worst job and there was almost unanimous agreement that it was Chávez.
The Bolivarian revolution has a legacy that leaders actively seek to avoid. It is an especially galling process for someone who believes in the compatibility of democracy and socialism. In fact, when Chávez started to talk about his socialist project in Venezuela, opposed to an anti-imperialist one, he lost his first referendum ever in December 2007. I had misinterpreted Chávez's early support: it had always been nationalist and not socialist.
Now, at the not-very-ripe age of 19, I find my increasing disillusionment with the revolution has had more impact on my personal political development than anything else. I still cling to the hope that in 2013, defeated in an election, he will leave peacefully. History, I feel, would then judge him well, and my early praise of him would have been justified.
I am aware that this process, from idealism to cynicism, is one that many go through in their lives. It is a painful but necessary step to recognise and criticise the faults of our former heroes. I feel it is a journey I have not yet completed. I am still an idealist, I will just need to relearn my lesson to put faith in principles rather than politicians.
