Two Weeks Inside One of Venezuelaâs Notorious “Colectivos”
Most journalists who come to Caracas stay in the affluent east of the city, shielded from Venezuelan reality behind the walls of their expensive hotels; behind their imperialist analysis of the country. The Canary, meanwhile, has spent two weeks in Venezuela with one of the countryâs notorious colectivos.
Anyone whoâs been exposed to the corporate mediaâs horrendous coverage of Venezuela, might associate the word colectivo with pro-government militias, thugs, or gangs. Though âcolectivoâ directly translates as âcollectiveâ and can apply to any social organisation, the corporate media has commandeered the word to negatively portray grassroots democratic movements across Venezuela.
Guardians of the Liberator
The Guardians of the Liberator colectivo (GDL) operates in the La Brisa district of Caracas, overlooking Venezuelaâs National Pantheon. Inside the pantheon lies SimĂłn BolĂvar, âliberatorâ of the Americas. Though the colectivoâs name owes to its physical location, the colectivo sees itself more as ideological minders of BolĂvarâs vision for the continent.
GDL leader Jaskeherry Rivas welcomed The Canary into his family home for two weeks, and spoke about the colectivoâs vision:
Our colectivo is about the continuation and defense of BolĂvarâs historical process: of pan-Americanism, of anti-colonialism, of respect for indigenous communities. People try to consign our history to the past. Hugo ChĂĄvez helped us rescue this history.
During an initial tour of the house, Rivas signaled to a corner of his second-floor patio. âYou heard weâre all armed groups, right?â, he said. âHere, Iâll show you our armsâ. He bent down, and unearthed shovels, buckets, and childrenâs games, turning with a smile. âThese are our arms. This is how we fight to sustain our revolutionâ.
Culture, music, and arts
The GDL is a youth-orientated colectivo incorporating over 170 local families. It organices cultural, music, and arts events for local children, who are among the hardest hit by Venezuelaâs economic crisis. As Robert and Emanuel â two young music producers who have opened their own modest home studio â told The Canary:
When I was younger I could take a girl out to see a movie. Right now weâre getting used to seeing those things as luxuries. I try to give my nephews money to buy something, like my uncles would when I was younger, but they canât buy what I could with that money. Itâs sad.
On 23 March, for instance, various youth colectivos hosted a rolling street party through the streets of the west of Caracas. After the party, organizers set up a mobile street stage and performed a comedy and drama show.
Youth colectivos are trying to fill a void left by Venezuelaâs economic crisis; to give young people a different life path to one of crime and delinquency. âA group of young people robbed me once as I was walking home from a barâ, Rivas recalled. âThey took everything, my phone, wallet. But once they realised it was me, they gave everything back. One of them was cryingâ.
Social value of work
Itâs no exaggeration that Rivas is known by the entire local community. Leaving the house becomes a strenuous affair, as people are constantly milling around, keen to discuss the weekâs events. âI donât formally workâ, Rivas explained, âI do informal, unpaid work. This work is socially valuable, yet colectivos are vilifiedâ.
His words recall George Orwell, who wrote about capitalist societyâs perverted understanding of labor value in Down and Out in Paris and London:
In practice nobody cares whether work is useful or useless, productive or parasitic; the sole thing demanded is that it shall be profitable. In all the modem talk about energy, efficiency, social service and the rest of it, what meaning is there except âGet money, get it legally, and get a lot of itâ?
Indeed, the social value of the GDLâs work and the communityâs strength is indisputable â and, at present, community solidarity in Venezuela represents a fundamental obstacle to Washingtonâs imperialist efforts. Some participants nonetheless lament that community events often become politicized, since the organizers are predominately revolutionaries.
War on language
The demonization of Venezuelaâs colectivos forms part of a wider and ongoing war of information on Venezuela â and central to any war of information is a war on language. Indeed, the term âcolectivoâ can describe armed groups, which do exist in Venezuela. The corporate media has nonetheless used the most extreme examples to tar all colectivos with the same brush.
After the election of Hugo ChĂĄvez in 1998, colectivos mushroomed across Venezuela with the wide-scale devolution of power to local communities. Their demonization in the corporate media serves a distinct purpose: to delegitimize Venezuelaâs grassroots democratic movements. As a social activist from Petare â which has been named âthe most dangerous slum in the worldâ in a characteristic case of poverty porn in Venezuela â told The Canary:
Popular neighborhoods are marginalized. Weâre spoken about in terms of âsavageryâ and âuncivilized violenceâ â the same discourse as past imperialism. Thatâs the only image the media paints: thatâs exactly what they want to show.
As across Latin America, social organisations in Venezuela are deemed incompatible with the oppositionâs US-backed neoliberal project. They are consequently dehumanized, delegitimized, and attacked by a compliant media that categorically ignore their roots, popularity, and social value.
The BolĂvarian revolution marches on
Venezuelaâs social movements appear far from indoctrinated and violent pro-government loyalists. Most organizers carry a dark humor about their governmentâs shortcomings and desire further devolution of power to local communities.
They are, nonetheless, proud of the significant social progress made over recent decades â progress that the countryâs opposition threatens to dismantle. Faced with such a choice, Venezuelaâs popular classes appear ready to struggle for the BolĂvar revolutionâs survival.
Feature image via author
John McEvoy is a global writer for the Canary. He has also written widely about recent British involvement in Colombia in the International History Review, Jacobin Magazine, and Colombia Reports.
