VENEZUELA: Surprise for the Junta

As the army officers who rule Venezuela had planned it, last week’s election was supposed to be a polite show of public approval, making the country look democratic enough to be a suave, suitable host at the tenth Inter-American Conference of nations next year. Instead, the military junta suffered a stunning defeat—then gave an amazing demonstration of how to break promises, kick democracy in the teeth, and cling to power by force.

The election was called to select a congress which would write Venezuela a new constitution and choose a President. To insure victory, the junta months ago planted a government party, lovingly fertilized with treasury money. The only opposition permitted by the junta came from minority parties: the Democratic Republican Union (U.R.D.) and the Christian Socialists (nicknamed Copei). But with a fourth of the 2,000,000 votes counted, U.R.D. (which had never polled more than 55,000 votes since its founding in 1946) was leading the government 294,000 to 147,000, with Copei close behind. Censorship cut off further accurate returns, but snippets of news indicated that the 2-to-1 ratio held good.

The Official Returns. Consternation seized green Miraflores Palace, the seat of the government. Junta Boss Colonel Marcos Pérez Jiménez used the confusion to shuck off the other two members of the junta, Colonel Luis Felipe Llovera Páez, Minister of Interior, and Germán Suarez Flamerich, the mousy professor whom the colonels had propped up as President. After two days, Pérez Jiménez got the signed support of Chief of Staff Felix Moreno, and went on the air to declare himself President. He announced baldly that “correct” election returns gave the government a clear victory. Then he ordered the arrest of all U.R.D. officials.

Pérez Jiménez’ first crisis arose swiftly. Storekeepers, newsmen, students, and some of the workers for the great oil companies went on a protest strike. He hit back by closing schools through Christmas and threatening to cut off labor’s social benefits. “Violence,” huffed Pérez Jiménez, “accomplishes nothing.”

A Conspiracy to Vote. But why had the carefully staged election turned out to be such a grievous surprise to the junta? Information smuggled out through the censorship indicated that the fiasco was engineered deliberately by Alberto Carnevali, underground commander of Acción Democrática, the majority party which was booted from power and outlawed by the junta four years ago. Carnevali had kissed off the election as a hopeless farce. He had advised A.D. men to go to the polls, as the law requires, but cast blank ballots. But gradually, through A.D.-de-coded government telegrams, he deduced that the junta would rely for victory on pre-election bribes and threats, and would actually allow a secret ballot.

Out through clandestine radio transmitters went new orders to A.D. members: to try to beat the junta, vote for Copei in two conservative regions, and for U.R.D. everywhere else. That was where the totally unexpected landslide of U.R.D. votes apparently came from. It was true that Pérez Jiménez was not yet unhorsed. But through his clumsy seizure of the presidency, he had placed himself and Venezuela further than ever from the democratic respectability they crave.