What truly matters in politics is not always what is said, but what is left unsaid. It is the silences that give weight to the words. To put it another way: it’s what is not said about Venezuela, as well as those who choose not to speak, that condemns Venezuela.
“There are no right-wing or left-wing frauds. There are just frauds,” says Sergio Ramírez rightly. He says this in a piece titled “I’ve seen this movie before.” The title not only refers to the Nicaraguan author, a victim of another dictatorship that is just as bad or worse than Venezuela’s, but also to at least the rest of Latin Americans. Because we’ve seen this movie many times and in many places. Not just the movie about fraud and the atrocities committed by dictators who constantly reappear in these regions, but also the movie about those who remain silent.
Such is the case of those who, while having spoken, have also timidly remained silent in the face of the brutalities committed by Nicolás Maduro and his gang, before, during, and after the elections. I am speaking of Mexico, for example, where President López Obrador has said that it is necessary to clarify the election results—as if he were unaware of the dictator’s tricks—and has tried to avoid any firm condemnation of the matter.
The same goes for Claudia Sheinbaum, López Obrador’s successor, who, mimicking his style, has also refused to condemn the tyrant’s actions. She advocates for non-intervention—remaining silent here—yet López Obrador had no qualms about criticizing and questioning—speaking out here—the government of Peru at every opportunity following the ousting of President Pedro Castillo.
Argentina, Uruguay, Costa Rica, the United States. All of them spoke up. For now. If there’s something those two groups called the left and the right share, it’s the silences. If tomorrow —because they always return— a dictator from the current right commits an act like Maduro’s, surely the right will stay silent. There are no right-wing or left-wing silences. There are just silences.
But others have spoken: Chilean President Gabriel Boric (who in the past had praised chavismo) condemned Maduro’s undemocratic actions. Beyond his successes and failures —beyond any ideological issues— he spoke and condemned, and it must be acknowledged. It’s true, others have spoken too. Evo Morales, for instance, supported the Venezuelan tyrant. Díaz Canel, Maduro’s Cuban counterpart —understood as a counterpart in terms of tyranny— also supported him as expected. They spoke. But as pointed out at the beginning, what truly matters in politics is not always what’s said.
The Venezuelan opposition has had to remain silent. However, just as they are used to, their silence has been carefully considered. That’s why, when they do speak, they must be listened to. Dictator Nicolás Maduro persecutes, imprisons, harasses, but Venezuela screams. And it screams this loudly because silence has been imposed on it. A silence in which chavista institutions, like the National Electoral Council, are also complicit, remaining silent when the dictator instructs them and only speaking when he tells them to. A silence that much of the international community has also been complicit in, such as when, beyond minimal complaints, opposition leader María Corina Machado was disqualified as a candidate, and once again, the persecution of any opposition was repeated. Because the very nature of chavismo is the imposition of silence.
From the outside, we witness the decline of a nation at the hands of rascals who continue the democratic assault at any cost. From the outside, we have seen the sick body, which had given one signal after another of its illness, now agonizing, and only now is there any real attempt to treat it. Of course, it’s easy to speak when one is not being persecuted. However, whatever happens to the Venezuelan dictator, this has been the consequence of silence. Imposed, chosen, or ignored. Silence that condemned those who were shouting. There are no national or international silences. There are just silences.
Only one will not remain silent: history.
