Venezuela,Human Rights and Participatory Democracy

Abstract

This paper explores the dynamic between the Venezuelan state, which has committed itself to a discourse on grassroots political participation, and civil society, which has responded to this call in ways that often exceed and challenge the expectations of the government. The Bolivarian process has raised Venezuelan’s expectations of the state, and its very success depends on both the actions of grassroots activists and the Chavista government. By analyzing the case of Venezuela I make three arguments concerning human rights. First, although human rights in recent years have more often than not served as a hegemonic tool of the West, they can have emancipatory potential, especially when used by social movements, as effective agents of social change. Second, in order for human rights to serve an emancipatory or counter-hegemonic function, they must be radicalized and transformed. Movements from below must drive the reconceptualization of human rights rather than powerful governments, international institutions and other top-down entities. My third argument is that the conception of the state as the sole violator of human rights or as the guarantor of human rights is a false dichotomy. While the state can be a violator of human rights, when pressured from below the state can protect its citizens from human rights abuses.

Keywords

human rights Latin America political movements political sociology revolution social movements Venezuela

Introduction

Underneath a busy highway in Caracas, Venezuela, 30 to 40 community members, sitting on tattered couches and an array of plastic and wooden chairs, collectively decide what type of projects and services they would like to implement in their neighborhoods. Accompanied by live music, pets, children of all ages, and the constant noise of passing traffic, members of the communal council engage in lively debates and vote on public policy and projects that directly affect their daily lives. There is a communal almost extended family feel to the gathering. On this particular day in La Cascada the assembly is discussing possibilities to build a stage with bathrooms and dressing rooms, a sports court, a daycare center and a soup kitchen to serve community members. Whatever decisions are made by the council are binding. If the council decides to build a daycare center and a sports court, the mayor and local officials are bound to abide by the council’s decision. On the other side of Caracas in the parish of Antimano is the Clavellinas Communal Council, a council that was formed in 2006 with 350 families, and is working to receive grants for home, sidewalk and alleyway repairs. La Cascada and Clavellinas are just two of over 44,000 registered Communal Councils in Venezuela. Funding for these communal councils comes mostly from municipal, state and city governments and goes directly to the community (Fox and Leindecker, 2008; Azzellini, 2013).

The rise of participatory democracy comes at a time where the nature of the Venezuelan government is controversial and contested. Since the 1998 election of Hugo Chavez Frias, Venezuela has undergone significant changes. Chavez’s polarizing character pitted his denouncers, for whom he can do no good, against his apologists, for whom he can do no wrong. But the reality in Venezuela is more complex. The changes that have occurred in Venezuela after 1998 are often seen as the sole result of the election of Hugo Chavez. This formulation downplays the broader context of the development of social movements in both Venezuela and the region. The extent of Chavez’s successes and the achievements of the Bolivarian Revolution would be unthinkable without the social movements and civil society that support and give viability to the Chavista government. One important achievement of the Bolivarian Revolution is the inclusion and participation of broader social sectors in the democratic process. This new participation has manifested itself in various forms including: local public planning councils that work to develop public policy, participatory budget-allocation, co-management of state-owned factories, workers councils, Bolivarian circles, social ‘missions’, community radio, and most importantly communal councils.

By analyzing the case of Venezuela I make two arguments concerning human rights. First, although some scholars (de Sousa Santos, 2008; Douzinas, 2007; Moyn, 2012) argue that in recent years human rights have more often than not served as a hegemonic tool of the West, I argue that they can have emancipatory potential, especially when used by social movements, as effective agents of social change. Social movements are not inherently counter-hegemonic; movements can also contribute to hegemonic human rights. It is not the fact that it is a social movement per se that is pushing the human rights discourse which gives it emancipatory potential, rather it is the emancipatory modes of practice of human rights (including discursive practices) that, when institutionalized, offer potentially radical liberating transformation.

Second, in order for human rights to realize its emancipatory or counter-hegemonic potential, they must be radicalized and transformed. Social movements, civil society, and the Global South must drive the reconceptualization of human rights rather than powerful governments, international institutions and other top-down entities.

Though movements from below are driving the reconceptualization of human rights, states can still have a role in the institutionalization of emancipatory human rights. In Keck and Sikkink’s (1998) model, transnational advocacy movements create what they call a ‘boomerang effect’ where they pressure powerful foreign governments to apply pressure to recalcitrant target states. In the case of the Venezuelan constitution, movements pushed for the inclusion of sweeping human rights language, including more radical conceptions of rights like participatory democracy, but the state also played a role in both opening up spaces for grassroots participation in the writing of the constitution and in the end, the institutionalization of those rights in the constitution. But in both cases, states were pushed from below.

What sets the case of Venezuela apart as potentially radical and emancipatory is the way that participatory institutions, particularly the communal councils, are organizing more deeply democratic relations among themselves, participatory democracy being their mode of human rights practice. Whether they are consciously constructing alternative human rights discourse remains to be seen, though their practices suggest that they are. My current research is exploring the extent to which they are actually trying to reconceptualize human rights discourse to intentionally challenge more hegemonic human rights discourses.

Part one gives a brief history of Venezuela, particularly the economic and social crises leading up to Hugo Chavez’s election in an attempt to understand the broader context of resistance and social movements in which he came to power. Part two analyzes the relationship between civil society and the state by looking at the 2002 coup, the creation of the 1999 constitution, the radicalization of Chavez and the activity of popular movements. Part three focuses on participatory democracy and the ways in which conceptions of justice in Venezuela can contribute to western notions of human rights. Part four deals with some current debates and tensions in the human rights and social movement literature. The first is the role of human rights as a hegemonic or counter-hegemonic force. The second is the tension between civil society and the state. And finally, whether notions of justice from the Global South can or should be internationalized and normalized in the human rights canon. Part five concludes with an argument for an emancipatory human rights practice and discourse.

Part One

In order to provide the reader with the basic grounding necessary to understand how the case of Venezuela is relevant to human rights discourse, it is important to first give a brief history of the country from the great depression to the social and economic crises of the 1980s and 1990s. From the Great Depression to the late 1960s import substitution industrialization (ISI) was the prevalent trade and economic policy in Latin America. ISI promotes ‘inner directed’ development involving the replacement of imported goods with goods produced domestically. Government manipulation of the exchange rate, import tariffs, subsidized credit for substitutive investments and direct or indirect subsidies to hold down costs of inputs for substitutive production were all policy instruments used to achieve inner directed development (Enriquez, 2000; Jonakin, 1997; Jonakin and Enriquez, 1999; Cupples, 2004; Waitzkin et al., 2007; Walker, 1997; Mohan et al., 2000; Lehmann, 1992).

This strategy relied heavily on state intervention to control trade and investment. ISI policies deepened the dependence of developing countries on developed world economies as the former relied heavily on imported finished products like machinery. Over-valued exchange rates exacerbated the problem as income inequalities between urban and rural areas widened drastically. Debt in Latin America had been a constant characteristic as local markets were not large enough to sustain any firms. Consequently the funding of capital goods was through loans and trade deficits. An already weak and indebted Latin America was devastated by the oil crisis in the 1970s, which caused foreign debt and interest rates to skyrocket (Harvey, 2005; Korten, 2001; Mohan et al., 2000).

The Bretton Woods institutions, the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and later the World Trade Organization (WTO) began to set terms of financial settlements between nearly bankrupt countries and international lenders. Structural adjustment programs, the packages of policy prescriptions necessary for a developing country to receive loans, became the standard economic policy in Latin America (Mohan, 2000; Korten, 2001; Harvey, 2005). State interventionist policies were replaced by market oriented, ‘laissez-fair’ economic doctrine, later known as neoliberalism.

By the 1980s neoliberalism had become the dominant political ideology in the region. Neoliberalism, which meant fiscal austerity, privatization of state assets, liberalization of trade, deregulation, and free trade, did not have the results its adherents had claimed. The aggregate trade deficit of low-income countries increased from US$6.5 billion to US$34.7 billion between 1980 and 1992. The IMF and World Bank lent out more money to cover growing trade deficits and as a result international indebtedness increased from US$134 billion to US$473 billion between 1980 and 1992 (Korten, 2001). Inflation in Latin America increased 26 times between 1981 and 1990.

Neoliberal structural adjustment also disproportionately affects the poor, primarily by: 1) the distribution of real income by the market, and 2) the provision of public goods by the state (Azam, 1994). Inflation due to devaluation mainly affects the poor who do not own any land or real assets. Public workers, such as teachers (in Africa), have faced a 33 percent decrease in salaries (Mohan et al., 2000). The poor are further disadvantaged by cuts in subsidies for essential commodities, healthcare and education. Many countries reduced labor costs, downsized the labor force, reduced real wages, and intensified work. The minimum wage in Latin America fell by 25 percent in the 1980s, and average earnings in the informal economy decreased by 42 percent (Mohan et al., 2000). The cost of living increased dramatically as a result of structural adjustment. From 1980–1999 per capita growth in South America was 11 percent compared to 80 percent growth the 20 years prior to the neoliberal period. Between 1960 and 1995 the ratio of average income between the world’s poorest and richest countries increased from 18–1 to 37–1. Neoliberalism also contributed to a number of economic crises in Latin America, including Argentina in 2001 and Mexico in 1994. Despite these realities, for many Latin Americans the wealth redistribution towards the rich and the accumulation of financial and political power led many in the world’s upper class to see neoliberalism as a resounding success (Martinez et al., 2010).

In Venezuela the picture was similar. Venezuela’s 20-year economic decline began in 1979, due in large part to heavy indebtedness, increasing oil production costs, and neoliberal policies. Real per capita income suffered a steady decline of 27 percent from 1979–1999, a decline that was greater than any other country in the region. By the early 1980s, poverty and inequality skyrocketed to the highest levels in Latin America. Poverty increased from 17 percent in 1980 to 65 percent in 1996 (Wilpert, 2007). The lower classes increasingly felt isolated and excluded from public decisions and power (Martinez et al., 2010).

The dissatisfaction came to a head in February 1989. In the 1988 presidential campaign, Carlos Andres Perez ran on an anti-neoliberal platform. Just a few weeks after taking office, Perez implemented a harsh neoliberal IMF-imposed structural adjustment program. On the morning of the 27th, ten days after Perez announced the SAP, commuters who traveled to the city by bus noticed that the fares had doubled. Venezuelans immediately began protesting. By mid-morning protests had spread to the country’s major cities. Buses were overturned and burnt, shops and supermarkets were looted and destroyed. The protests and destruction turned into an outright rebellion that lasted a few days. The rebellion, later called the Caracazo, was followed by brutal military repression. Perez reacted to the rebellions by unleashing the police and military to squash not only the protesters but also the poor population. By the end of the Caracazo between 300 and 3000 people had been killed (Wilpert, 2007; Gott, 2005).

The failures of neoliberalism to accomplish its economic promises resulted in a rise of resistance against the economic doctrine across Latin America. The Zapatistas directly challenged the Mexican state, the Landless Peasants Movement (MST) in Brazil organized large land occupations, and indigenous movements in Bolivia and Ecuador mobilized in defense of natural resources and the environment. Venezuela was not different. Primarily as a consequence of the Caracazo, new human rights groups, social movements, civil and community associations and political parties emerged.

Chavez first came onto the scene after a failed coup in 1992. The coup was primarily planned and executed by the Revolutionary Bolivarian Movement-200 (MBR-200), of which Chavez was a member. After the failed coup Chavez surrendered under the condition that he would be allowed to address the nation. During his one-minute address he took responsibility for the coup, told his comrades to put down their weapons to prevent further bloodshed and said that the group’s objectives had not been achieved ‘for now’. The address turned Chavez into a folk hero and gave the coup attempt broader popular support. Chavez’s support among the country’s poor and the left were a result of the brutal repression of the Caracazo, 25 years of political repression and 12 years of economic decline. Perez was subsequently impeached on corruption charges and his successor, Rafael Caldera, fulfilled his campaign promise and pardoned Chavez in 1994.

Like Perez before him, Caldera also turned to the IMF for loans conditioned by neoliberal SAPs. Also like Perez he did so in direct contradiction to his campaign promises. These reforms further aggravated the problems of poverty in Venezuela due to its cuts in social spending, privatization and the increasing costs of services (Wilpert, 2007). The passage of these reforms further contributed to the loss of credibility for Venezuela’s political class. The social and economic crisis, the de-legitimization of the major political parties and the political elites, and the emergence of grassroots social movements opened a space and created the conditions for Chavez’s electoral triumph in 1998.

Part Two

Constitution

One of the first acts of the Chavez administration was the re-writing of the constitution. He was able to achieve this because of the tremendous dissatisfaction with the current political system. The constitution was approved in a popular referendum in December of 1999. The new constitution added two branches of government, changed the country’s name, introduced popular referenda and local planning councils, recognized Venezuela’s large indigenous population, recognized housework as an economic activity and in some ways strengthened presidential power. Many commentators argue that Venezuela has the world’s most progressive constitution in the sense that it provides for broad citizen participation and comprehensive human rights protections (Wilpert, 2007). Title III includes more than 100 articles directly addressing a wide range of civil and human rights. Human rights were a central component in the constitution and often went far beyond what most constitutions incorporate and often beyond liberal notions of human rights. Not only are civil rights included but also social rights such as the right to employment, education, healthcare and dignified housing. These rights are seen as fundamental, and an obligation of the state. For some the constitution has come under some criticism for guaranteeing more than what the state should provide its citizens (Boudin and Rumbos, 2006; Wilpert, 2007). Nevertheless, the constitution and its framing in the language of human rights served as a launching pad from which social movements could base their struggle. What is important for this paper is not so much the content of the constitution but the role of civil society and social movements in its construction. Additionally important are the ways in which civil society and social movements have used the human rights language in the constitution to bring the document to life.

One of the most unique aspects of the constitution is that it was written with the direct participation of the Venezuelan people. They were able to follow the debates on television, as well as participate in public forum sessions. One such movement is the Cetro de Estudios de la Mujer (CEM – Center for Women’s Studies), based at the Universidad Central de Venezuela (UCV – Central University of Venezuela). In addition to being a research center, the CEM has played a significant role in pushing for women’s rights and pushing the agenda of the women’s movement. Article 88 in the constitution (the aforementioned provision that recognizes work in the home as an economic activity and therefore eligible for social security) was the result of proposals from the CEM. Other provisions in the constitution including sexual and reproductive rights, the use of gender-neutral language, the right to decide how many children to have, equality with men, and affirmative action for women were proposals that were taken to the constituent assembly by people from the CEM. Since the approval of the constitution, the CEM has continued to push the government to institute initiatives and programs that live up to the principles of the constitution, including the Women’s Development Bank, the Inamujer-National Women’s institute, and the social mission Madres del Barrio (Mothers of the Slums Mission) (Martinez et al., 2010).

Another group that was instrumental in the construction of the constitution was indigenous peoples. Indigenous organizations participated in the construction of the constitution with an exceptional level of access. One of the most important indigenous organizations in this process was the National Indigenous Council of Venezuela (CONIVE). CONIVE convoked various forums and consultations to mobilize support for their proposals to the National Assembly. The result was the Venezuelan constitution dedicated an entire chapter to indigenous peoples. The constitution recognizes the respect of indigenous languages, customs, culture, and traditional lands. Indigenous peoples were granted various entitlements, communal land titles and the right to their own educational institutions (Martinez et al., 2010).

Not only did existing social movements participate in the construction of the constitution but new social movements were created in the process. One such movement is the Network of Afro-Venezuelan Organizations which is made up of over 30 groups and takes on issues that uplift Venezuela’s black population.

Popular Movements

In his first two years, Chavez’s social and economic policies were strikingly similar to his predecessors. No redistributions of wealth, no limitations on profit and no expropriations had taken place. In fact the emergence of the opposition had more to do with the elimination of governing elites from centers of power and a forced vote on the leadership of the Confederation of Workers of Venezuela (CTV). Chavez’s first years in office, despite his radical speeches, were quite modest. He was elected primarily by the Venezuelan middle class who desperately wanted a solution to the corrupt and inefficient political system without disrupting the status quo. The poor, who were later to be Chavez’s primary base of supporters, voted for Chavez but had much lower rates of participation and registration. Unlike later elections, Chavez would have never been elected by the poor itself in the 1998 election (Wilpert, 2007). By the recall referendum in 2004 the middle class had abandoned Chavez and the poor became his primary base of support. This section looks to examine how the relationship between civil society, neighborhood associations, and the state brought about this change and its implications for human rights.

One example of this relationship is the development of community media. Catia TVe, born out of the Manicomio Film Club and the repression of the 1980s, was one of Venezuela’s first community television stations. During the 2002 coup, as the private media ramped up their anti-Chavez campaign, Catia TVe and other community stations helped the Venezuelan people get accurate information. For example, they reported that Chavez had not resigned and that he was being held against his will. Prior to the coup, community media was not a top priority for the government, but the role of community media in defeating the coup was obvious. Shortly after Chavez returned to power, the government began to support community media by providing equipment, funding and broadcast licenses (Martinez et al., 2010).

As demonstrated in the example of Catia TV, advances in Venezuelan society during the Chavez era have been the result of popular movements pushing for more radical changes. Some of these movements include but are not limited to communal councils, workers councils, Bolivarian circles, grassroots community organizations, community media and the labor movement. Worker takeovers of factories, land reforms, concerns related to housing, corruption and infrastructure have been among the issues addressed by grassroots organizations. Popular movements supported Chavez in implementing these reforms and even pressured him to deepen these reforms (Wilpert, 2007). Carlos Martinez et al. (2010) locate the rise of popular power in a dialectic between the self-organization of ordinary Venezuelans and the government’s receptivity to these movements from below:

Venezuelans have created cooperatives; taken over factories; occupied urban and rural lands; launched community radio and television stations; built centers for culture and popular education; participated in creating national legislation and found numerous other means of bringing the government’s discourse of popular power into a reality. Many of these actions have been motivated by the words of President Chavez or have been facilitated by government initiatives. Meanwhile many people behind these actions continue to pressure the government to survive or succeed. (Martinez et al., 2010: 4)

While the taking of power has been from above in the sense that the government is stimulating and facilitating much of this activity, social movements have played an integral role in building popular power that goes beyond the scope of government and in implementing the process of change. Movements that have been organizing before the election of Chavez have simply taken advantage of the opportunities the Chavez administration has created (Martinez et al., 2010).

Neighborhood associations and community groups have been organizing around issues of improving the water supply, health care, land distribution and other government programs prior to Chavez’s election. It was not until 2006, eight years after being elected, that the government began to legitimize their self-organization by passing the Communal Council Law.

The labor movement has also been an impetus for radical change. When the conservative CTV sided with the coup-makers in 2002, a new union federation was formed, the National Union of Venezuelan Labor (UNT). The UNT has grown to be larger than the CTV and has supported radical reforms like the taking over of idle factories and transforming them into worker self-managed or co-managed factories. The labor movement understood that Chavez, and now Maduro, needs to be pressured and criticized in order for their movement to advance.

Many of the community groups throughout the country pre-date Chavez. One such organization is the Coordinadora Simon Bolivar, a grouping of 14 grassroots collectives which cropped up in one of Venezuela’s neighborhoods in response to the police repression of the Caracazo. Grassroots indigenous movements like the Regional Organization of the Indigenous Peoples of the Amazonian State (ORPIA), Indigenous Federation of the State of Bolivar (FIB), and the National Indigenous Council of Venezuela (CONIVE) were organizing themselves to insert their political goals in the 1990s. Another example is the Popular Education Centers (PECs) that were established in the mid-1970s. PECs were responsible for carrying out various projects in the community including training centers, transportation, and human resource training. These centers worked until 1994 when the boom of neighborhood associations and communal councils began to emerge as the popular mode of community organization.

It was only in 2006 with the Communal Council Law that the government began to promote their self-organization. These groups are the most outspoken about the shortcomings of the government and keep the issues of corruption, the slowness of reform, and participatory democracy on the top of the government’s agenda (Wilpert, 2007). Through the introduction of comprehensive social programs, promotion of cooperatives, workers councils and communal councils, the nationalization of industries, and the regulation of capital, Venezuela has gone further than any other country in reversing neoliberal policies. Many of the advances in social programs and participatory democracy would not have been achieved without pressure from below by community groups, social movements and marginalized Venezuelans.

2002 Coup

One example of this relationship is the activity of Venezuelan civil society in the aftermath of the 2002 coup. Had it not been for the mobilization of the Venezuelan people and social movements, Chavez’s presidency would have ended in 2002. As part of Venezuela’s renationalization of the nation’s oil production, Chavez transformed minority state participation into majority participation. In response, the oil company (PDVSA) organized a general strike for 11 April 2002. On the morning of the 11th, opposition protestors started a march from the state-owned oil company. On the other side of town Chavez supporters gathered around the presidential palace. Breaking with its announced plan, the opposition march changed course and headed toward the presidential palace. Amidst the confusion of the merging marches, snipers began shooting into both crowds. The private media, primarily Radio Caracas Television (RCTV), reported that the Chavez supporters instigated the violence against the demonstrators and broadcasted manipulated video images of Chavez supporters on a bridge shooting opposition demonstrators below (Golinger, 2007; Boudin et al., 2006). This video served as a major justification for the coup. Videos taken from other angles later showed that the images shown by RCTV were manipulated and that the Chavez supporters were shooting at snipers who were openly firing upon their march (Golinger, 2007; Gott, 2005; McCaughan, 2005).

Soon after the opposition kidnapped Chavez, RCTV announced that Chavez had willingly resigned. Shortly after the kidnapping, Pedro Carmona, the president of the businessmen’s federation, Fedecameros, and one of the principle organizers of the coup, assumed the presidency. He then organized a cabinet of like-minded business colleagues, suspended all democratic rights, dissolved the National Assembly and the Supreme Court, and revoked the 1999 constitution. Although the private media had announced that Chavez had resigned, grassroots word-of-mouth networks spread the word that Chavez in fact had not resigned and that the dead and injured in Miraflores were Chavez supporters. As word spread through the barrios, ordinary Venezuelans sprang to action. Over a million Chavez supporters began to rally around the presidential palace in support of their democratically elected president. When demonstrators surrounded the palace in attempts to reinstate Chavez, the private media orchestrated a complete blackout on the demonstrations, instead showing reruns of Tom and Jerry cartoons and the movie Pretty Woman. As the protestors and military officers loyal to Chavez surrounded the palace, Carmona had no choice but to step down. In just 47 hours the coup was over and Chavez was reinstated. It was through the organization and mobilization of civil society, social movements, and the poor from the barrios that Chavez was returned to power. Had it not been for the active participation of various sectors of Venezuelan society, the Chavez regime would have ended in 2002 (Golinger, 2007; Gott, 2005; McCaughan, 2005).

Part Three

Participatory Democracy

Democracy is based on the idea that the general public should participate in the decision-making processes that impact their daily lives. In this conception, the shortcomings of representative democracy are becoming more and more apparent in our contemporary society. As economic power becomes more concentrated and powerful, its influence on representative politics increases. Powerful economic interests are becoming increasingly able to make their desires felt in the legislative process. This is accomplished in a variety of ways, including the calculated use of corporate media, the funding of powerful lobbies, and various methods of manipulating the electorate. Representatives depend more on lobbies than their constituents during election cycles, resulting in lobbies having a greater influence on policy than everyday voters. The media often relies on images and personalities rather than the debate on important issues. According to the Center for Responsive Politics, in 93 percent of House of Representative races and 94 percent of Senate races (in the United States), the candidate that spent the most money ended up winning. Most of the money that comes from political financing comes from corporate donations, political action committees, and wealthy individuals. The concept of one person, one vote is becoming harder to reconcile with representative democracy. Money, not people, tends to have more influence on the political process. The intention of the ‘rule of the people’ was to guarantee that political decisions were inspired by and dictated by the interests of the people. When representatives make the decisions, there is no guarantee that political decisions will reflect the desires of the people.

Liberal notions of human rights purport to guarantee representative democracy and civil and political rights. Human rights must go beyond the liberal notion of representative democracy and embrace participatory democracy if it is to serve a counter-hegemonic, emancipatory function. The case of Venezuela not only gives insight into how participatory democracy can function but it illuminates the ways in which the Global South can contribute to the formation of a counter-hegemonic human rights practice and discourse.

The concept of participatory democracy holds that citizens should be active participants in the process of governing the country. In this model citizens must play a significant role in developing government policy and prioritizing budgets and projects in a way that benefits the entire community. The main principle behind participatory democracy is the constant participation, consultation, and discussion by citizens in the political process. This conception of democracy is quite different than the representative model where the extent of participation among citizens is going to the voting booth once every two to four years. The constant participation of citizens in the political process serves to better ensure self-determination. Participatory democracy strives to create an active political culture, opportunities for the incorporation of broader sectors of the population into the political process, and a more healthy civil society in general.

The Bolivarian Constitution provides for broad citizen participation in the democratic process. This new participation has manifested itself in various forms including: local public planning councils that work to develop public policy, participatory budget-allocation, co-management of state-owned factories, workers councils, Bolivarian circles, social ‘missions’, community radio, and most importantly communal councils (Boudin et al., 2006).

For the purposes of this paper I will discuss two of the aforementioned forms of participatory democracy practiced in Venezuela, the local public planning councils (CLPPS) and communal councils. Largely modeled after participatory local budgeting in Porte Alegre, Brazil, CLPPs aim to provide citizens the necessary tools to influence decisions that affect their well-being. The law of Local Public Planification Councils was established in Article 182 of the Constitution. The law required that 335 municipalities implement them by 12 October 2002. Currently many sectors of the civil society are being represented in the CLPPs, including education, health, transportation, culture, sports, ecology, security, women, people with disabilities, land committees and others. Citizens in CLPPs develop annual budgets and actively supervise its implementation. The idea behind the people directly participating and influencing local planning and the allocation of resources is that they have the most comprehensive understanding of their own communities.

This is not to say that the CLPPS are not without their problems. Not all citizens can attend meetings, the degree of participation across different councils varies, elected officials still often have the final say on the realization of decisions made by the council and the councils are not supported by all mayors, governors, public officials, and those in the government. Nevertheless the institution of CLPPS is a positive step towards participatory democracy (Wagner, 2004).

Perhaps the most widespread and most effective instrument of self-organization and self-government in the Bolivarian process is the communal council. Since the passage of the 2006 Law of Community Councils over 44,000 communal councils have been established. These councils are grassroots neighborhood-based bodies that bring together existing community organizations that have emerged in mostly poor neighborhoods around issues of water, electricity, health, education and media. Decisions made in communal councils are made in citizen assemblies and are open to the whole community. Communal councils are funded by the state, and are encouraged to play a direct economic role, such as creating cooperatives or taking over idle factories (Azzellini, 2009, 2013; Ellner, 2009).

Like the CLPPS, communal councils are also not without problems. Although communal council decisions are binding and give ordinary Venezuelans more direct control over their own lives, they have no power to influence national and international policies. Despite their shortcomings the emergence of communal councils, workplace councils, CLPPS, participatory budget allocation, Bolivarian circles, co-management and cooperatives have resulted in a growing incorporation of broader social sectors into the decision-making process.

Although early experiments in participatory democracy can be found in the West, notably classical Greece and parts of Spain in the Spanish Civil War, in our contemporary age the Global South is taking a lead in its promotion and practice in participatory democracy. While western notions of representative democracy are losing favor in many parts of the Global South, citizens are reconfiguring democracy under their own terms. Since 1989 participatory budgeting in Porte Alegre, Brazil, has allowed residents to directly participate in the allocation of city funds. Budgeting decisions are made by dozens of assemblies made up of poor and middle class men and women across the city. Currently more than 50,000 residents participate in the budgeting process in a city of a million and a half people (Lewit, 2002).

Responding to the economic crisis of 2001, workers in Argentina created hundreds of neighborhood assemblies. Argentines also began to take control of factories. The number of occupied and worker-controlled factories subsequently grew into the hundreds (Sitrin, 2006). Building on factory occupations that took place during the Dirty War of the 1970s, workers cooperatively run the factories, decisions are made democratically by worker assemblies rather than professional managers and profits are distributed equitably to all workers (Ranis, 2006).

Experiments with participatory budgeting, worker-controlled workplaces, communal councils, local public planning councils – in short, experiments with participatory democracy – are not without their own shortcomings and limitations, but they do offer an alternative path to economic development and a more democratic conception of human rights. Social movements of the Global South that make advances towards participatory democracy are integral to a counter-hegemonic human rights practice and discourse.

The history of human rights since the Second World War can be said to have, for the most part, been in the service of political and economic interests of dominant capitalist states. The discourse on human rights has allowed and justified horrible atrocities (De Souza Santos, 2008; Moyn, 2012). George Bush’s appropriation of human rights rhetoric to justify the war in Iraq is but one example (Moyn, 2012). The Global South is beginning to recognize that the root of the most massive abuses of human rights (famine, malnutrition, ecological degradation) lies in the intensification of neoliberal capitalist globalization. To that end, the Global South has responded with resistance to the neoliberal project and has begun to advanced new alternative modes of development. Participatory democracy as a form of development and a method of achieving a broader range of human rights is one of the important areas where western culture and liberal theories of human rights can learn from the South.

Part Four

A major debate in the field of human rights is whether human rights serve as an effective defense against domination and oppression (by states, corporations, international financial institutions, etc.) or serve only to buttress western hegemony. Do human rights have emancipatory potential (De Sousa Santos, 2005; Evans, 2008; Kurasawa, 2007) or rather provide only an ideological gloss for imperialism (Douzinas, 2007; Moyn, 2012)? In short, do human rights serve more as instruments for imperialism or instead as instruments of resistance to it? After surveying the origins of the concept of rights and the history of its use in practice, Costas Douzinas (2007) concludes that in our contemporary era the usage of human rights as a hegemonic tool seems to prevail. Human rights have been co-opted and hijacked by the very same governments and powerful institutions against which they were putatively meant to defend. Although he does concede that human rights have at various times in history played a crucial role in the fight against oppression, as in classical Greece, human rights have played a stronger role in reinforcing institutions of oppression by safeguarding and upholding the status quo, whether as a justification of imperial power; an ideological tool to criticize ideologies that challenge current power structures; as bargaining chips for aid, trade and diplomatic negotiations; or as a veneer for military adventures abroad. In the end, Douzinas (2007) argues that although human rights struggles have improved the lives of many people, they often de-politicize the struggle, removing any chance for radical change. Human rights struggles conceal the real roots of domination by framing the struggle in terms of individual legal remedies (Douzinas, 2007).

In addition to powerful governments and international institutions, NGOs and humanitarian aid organizations have also come under significant criticism. Primarily these scholars examine the ways in which external interests shape the allocation of resources and the kind of activities pursued by NGOs and humanitarian relief agencies working in the Global South. In many cases these organizations unwittingly reproduce social relations that introduce their own inequalities (Bob, 2009; Davis, 2007; Krause, 2014; Schwartz, 2008).

While it is true that NGOs have played a significant role in promoting human rights and establishing important global bodies like the International Criminal Court (ICC), they have also served as a tool for what Mike Davis (2007) calls ‘soft imperialism’. NGOs, he argues are unelected organizations that operate under the banner of democracy but answer only to their donors, directors and members, and are less transparent than most political parties. They are funded and supported by international aid agencies and wealthy donors and have strong ties to the IMF and World Bank (Davis, 2007). Consequently, they often end up co-opting local leadership, demobilizing grassroots activism and resistance, and establishing forms of clientelism. NGOs are encouraged to work through the channels of ruling class institutions, and are beholden to the dominant elites who provide their funding and their raison d’être. Operating in the interests of their donors often comes at the expense of local communities (Davis, 2007). For these reasons, Davis (2007) argues non-governmental organizations’ agency to challenge neoliberal globalization is severely limited, and can in some instances contribute to global inequality and serve as an obstacle to democracy.

While Davis (2007) focuses on the ways in which NGOs co-opt local movements, Clifford Bob (2009) analyzes the ways local movements often willingly reframe their goals in order to receive resources from NGOs from the Global North, and the limitations that this incurs. Bob (2009) argues that when NGOs from the Global North form relations with the Global South, they often shape local movements. To increase their prospects of receiving support, local movements conform to the needs and interests of key global players in western nations. Bob (2009) suggests that this is a hegemonic exercise where movements from the Global South have to reframe their projects to fit mandates from the Global North. These mandates come from donations from elites in the Global North, and measures dictated from the Global North force movements to talk about ‘safe’ topics, ones that tend to focus on political and civil rights (Bob, 2009). Though adept in their critique of the ways that human rights discourse and practice can be hijacked by powerful groups from the Global North – whether it be NGOs or aid agencies – critics often do not show how grassroots actors in the Global South are reconceptualizing human rights.

Other scholars are more optimistic about the emancipatory potential of human rights (De Sousa Santos, 2005; Evans, 2008; Kurasawa, 2007; Stammers, 1999). Although still acknowledging the ways in which human rights can be invoked to maintain and justify relations of power, they are optimistic in the ways the oppressed can also use human rights to challenge those very relations of power. Where Douzinas (2007) sees human rights being used more as a tool to gloss over domination, Stammers (1999) argues that human rights discourses, especially when used by social movements, are the most effective agents of socio-cultural change. Stammers (1999) contends that in circumstances where globalization has rendered states more incapable of fulfilling their duties in respect to human rights, a space is opening up for social movements to expand popular understandings of human rights to challenge existing structures of power.

Others specifically locate the emancipatory potential of human rights in a counter-hegemonic or alternative globalization, a globalization from below (De Sousa Santos, 2005; Evans, 2008; Kurasawa, 2007). Prominent theorists who write from this perspective include Boaventura De Sousa Santos (2005, 2008), Peter Evans (2008), and Fuyuki Kurasawa (2007). These authors are interested in the ways in which counter-hegemonic social movements have played a role in shaping our global world and challenging hegemonic neoliberal globalization from above. De Sousa Santos (2005) argues that although human rights discourse and practice has traditionally been in service of imperialism, colonialism and expansion, human rights should and can be radicalized and reclaimed to serve in the interests of emancipatory politics. Fuyuki Kurasawa (2007), also like De Sousa, argues that we have to reclaim or ‘redeploy’ human rights discourses from more formalist approaches in order for them to have emancipatory potential. Kurasawa (2007) suggests that because of their growing recognition, high standing, transnationalism, and institutional development, human rights provide a valuable opportunity not only to critique but to transform the global order. De Sousa Santos (2005) and Kurasawa (2007) propose a human rights that not only establishes more equitable relations but challenges extant structures that produce injustices, a human rights that, rather than support an abusive neoliberal system, challenges it. In this spirit Kurasawa writes:

When inserted into struggles within which they serve as components of practices of global justice, human rights can produce political leverage to organize and legitimate demands for the systemic transformation of the world order in the direction of an alternative globalization. (Kurasawa, 2007: 96)

This new paradigm of human rights breaks with the top-down analysis that dominates the study of globalization. With its focus on bottom-up, or counter-hegemonic globalization, it opens up the possibility for alternative globalizations.

A counter-hegemonic human rights paradigm fits within broader struggles against neoliberalism. The social movement literature highlights the contradictions of neoliberal globalization and the openings and limitations for struggles against it. Della Porta and Diani (2006), for example, write that the neoliberal shift, marked by privatizations of public space and the deregulation of the labor market, limited social movements’ ability to exert pressure through political channels. With increased power in international institutions relative to that of nation-states, movements face supranational powers in the form of international organizations rather than the power of states.

Peter Evans (2008), on the other hand, argues that although neoliberal globalization has failed to protect people from the vicissitudes of the market, it has created the conditions and opened up space for social movements in the form of counter-hegemonic globalization from below. Evans (2008) describes what he calls ‘generic globalization’ as:

The shrinking of graphic space and the increased permeability of physical and political boundaries that have followed from the 20th century revolutionary transformation of information and communication technologies and the only slightly revolutionary changes in transportation. (Evans, 2008: 5)

Conventional wisdom suggests that generic globalization is subordinated to neoliberal globalization and cannot be any other way. But, while on the one hand, neoliberalism has used the tools and resources of generic globalization in pursuance of a global system of domination, these same tools and resources can be used in a range of political projects, including emancipatory or counter-hegemonic ones. In other words, globalization has in many ways expanded the possibilities for social movements to organize at the global level. Advances in technological tools as well as the social and organizational resources that have expanded under generic globalization have given social movements the tools that enable them to organize in ways that were unthinkable 100 years ago.

Hank Johnston (2011) argues that the negative effects of neoliberalism in the 1970s have given rise to mass mobilizations in protest. IMF and World Bank prescribed structural adjustment programs gave rise to austerity riots, food riots, and anti-IMF riots. One example of this is the Caracazo, discussed above. Johnston (2011) points out that before SAPs were pursued aggressively in developing nations, as those in Latin America, there was a relative absence of popular uprisings. Hyperurbanization, which concentrated large numbers of poor and unemployed communities into urban areas, and the encroachment of international agencies into the national public sphere were two important factors associated with these protests. But echoing Evans (2008), Johnston (2011) argues that neoliberal globalization also created the conditions for a rise in transnational and global networks of activists. More of these networks of activists exist now than ever before.

This can be seen in Latin America and in Venezuela specifically in the movement against the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas (FTAA). A broad range of organizations, committees, and activist groups across Latin America mobilized against the FTAA. As a result of the growing regional opposition to the FTAA, in 2005 the agreement was declared dead. With the defeat of the FTAA, Latin American social movements won their first struggle against neoliberalism. This victory opened the door for the creation of alternative paths of development in the region (dello Buono and Bell, 2006; De la Barra and Dello Buono, 2009).

A corollary to the first debate is the question of whether civil societies in the Global South contribute to global human rights practice and discourse. Can the Global South offer new conceptualizations to rebalance and democratize global society? Richard Falk (2001) emphasizes the role of governments, international institutions, and other top-down institutions in achieving human rights or at least minimizing human suffering. Falk (2001) focuses on the ways in which international institutions promote and consolidate the ends of global justice. He argues that one problem in achieving human rights is the reluctance of states to support the United Nations and an ‘unwillingness to allow it to expand in ways that take advantage of the opportunities for more effective forms of governance that could include the promotion of justice’ (Falk, 2001: 23). This analysis leaves little room for social movements, civil society and the Global South to contribute to human rights practice and discourse. In the instances in which Falk mentions social movements, it is in the context of the United Nations and other international institutions providing the arenas for movements to develop their programs of action. Social movements acting independent of or challenging institutions are ignored. Ishay (2004) makes the argument that the modern conception of rights is predominantly European in origin and that Europe’s contribution to the notion of human rights specifically is greater than any other civilization.

De Sousa Santos (2005), on the other hand, sees the social movements of the Global South as integral to the formation of a counter-hegemonic human rights practice and discourse. For example, the World Social Forum (WSF), a gathering of civil society, social movements, NGOs and activists mostly from the Global South, embodies a counter-hegemonic globalization and uses human rights discourse to service emancipatory politics. The WSF is crucial to offering new conceptualizations to rebalance and democratize global society.

In other words, movements from below do not want just any kind of human rights, but at the same time are not walking away from the table of human rights either. Are the kinds of human rights they are invoking more than just the political tradition of liberal human rights? Do they push for political and civil rights or do they also push for economic and social rights? Through a reconceptualization of human rights, movements from below have the potential to, and in some cases are, evoking emancipatory human rights.

Some examples of movements from below – specifically from the Global South – that are re-conceptualizing human rights include those analyzed by Stefano Varese (2012). Varese (2012) looks at how indigenous peoples from Latin America are contesting state nationalism, collective cultural rights and the practice of citizenship within contemporary nation states. Unlike examples discussed above (Davis, Bob, Krause), where movements from the South are shaped by wealthy donors from the North and their liberal notions of human rights, these indigenous movements from the South are pushing for a more radical conceptualization of human rights. The Zapatistas, an armed Mayan resistance movement in Chiapas, Mexico, is but one example. The Zapatistas formed in 1994 primarily in opposition to the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas (NAFTA) which they considered a ‘death wish’ for indigenous peoples in Mexico. The two central demands of the rebels included the right of self-governance, self-rule and autonomy, and the right to territorial and resource sovereignty. The notion of sovereignty in the Napoleonic tradition refers exclusively to the nation-state. Varese (2012) points out that until the Zapatista rebellion ‘the terms “sovereignty,” “autonomy,” and “self-determination” referring to indigenous peoples could barely be whispered by anthropologists and indigenous intellectuals and could be easily denounced as subversive proclamations’ (Varese, 2012: 169). Now sovereignty, autonomy, and self-determination have become part of accepted political discourse.

Self-governance and self-determination are not just more acceptable in political discourse but also have become more prominent demands within movements: the Argentine worker controlled factories and neighborhood assemblies (Sitrin, 2006), the MST’s land occupations, and participatory budgeting in Brazil, and participatory democracy in Venezuela, to name just a few.

The case of Venezuela illuminates the ways in which the Global South can contribute to the formation of a counter-hegemonic human rights practice and discourse. The direct participation of various movements in the construction of the 1999 constitution was integral to its inclusion of human rights language. But, more importantly, movements have used the human rights language in the constitution to bring the document to life. The kind of human rights that movements in Venezuela are evoking also go beyond liberal notions of civil and political rights. The rights to employment, housing, health care and participatory democracy are enshrined in the constitution and continue to be evoked by movements to demand higher levels of participation and more social rights. The 44,000 established communal councils and more than 200 communes that are under construction in Venezuela are a testament to the movement work and reconceptualization of human rights by community groups, social movements and marginalized Venezuelans. What is unclear at this point is whether they are consciously constructing alternative forms of human rights, though their practices suggest that they are. My current research is exploring the extent to which they are actually trying to reconceptualize human rights discourse to intentionally challenge more hegemonic human rights discourses.

Conclusion

As illustrated above, the relationship between civil society and the state is a complex one. The state is often viewed in the sociological literature on human rights and otherwise as the a prime violator of human rights and an obstacle to freedom, liberty, and private property, but also under certain conditions as imperative to maintain order, to restrain the excesses of the anti-social actions of civil society, and to play the role of guarantor of human rights.

In general the state is the organized political expression of, and is controlled by, the economically dominant class. The state functions to maintain control and to oppress the exploited classes, but as this paper demonstrates, when pressured from below, through human rights language or otherwise, the state can protect its citizens from the worst ravages of capitalism or even promote self-organization, as in the case of the communal councils or even rudimentary forms of workers’ power in the case of workers’ councils. The state, therefore, is a product of class struggle. Progressive legislation in Venezuela, as is the case in any capitalist state, has only been won through class struggle, not something decreed from above.

Each attempt by the opposition to topple Chavez further radicalized his poor supporters and therefore Chavez himself. It was not until 2005 (seven years after his election) that he announced that the goal of the Bolivarian Revolution was to build socialism of the 21st century’, and it was not until 2006 that he began to recognize and promote the communal councils, perhaps the most revolutionary and transformative act by the government thus far. Although communal councils and neighborhood associations were organizing themselves independently and outside of the state prior to 2006, they undeniably received a huge boost when they were legitimized, promoted, and began to receive funds from the Venezuelan government.

Grassroots pressure and direct participation from human, women’s, indigenous, and labor rights groups were instrumental in the inclusion of a wide range of civil and human rights in the constitution. Human rights groups and civil society, however, did not stop there. In order for the rights guaranteed in the constitution to be realized, social movements, human rights groups and civil society maintained and even increased their pressure on the state. The human rights language in the constitution served as a launching pad from which social movements could base their struggle.

The question of whether human rights are or can be emancipatory is contingent upon the ways in which rights are framed. Whether human rights are a strategy to win political and civil freedoms as well as social and economic justice is predicated on what we mean by rights. The liberal notion of human rights discourse is individualist, property-centered and has an emphasis on representative democracy. Where liberal human rights was once a progressive calling to check and overthrow monarchic, feudal, and theocratic regimes, now this liberal perspective is a defense of the status quo. Invoking human rights can be narrow and limit the discursive resources available to social movements and can suppress alternative claims, including labor organizing, socialism, and nationalism. Emancipatory human rights must not suppress these claims but embrace them when appropriate. To realize human rights’ radical potential we must look past liberal notions of rights and include participatory democracy rather than representative, positive liberties rather than negative liberties, collective rights rather than just individual, and solidarity-oriented and collective notions of property rather than private property. The Global North, according to De Sousa Santos (2005), must listen and learn from the Global South for human rights to serve counter-hegemonic meanings. Marginalized people must have not only the aforementioned rights but also the right to organize and participate in the creation of rights. In order to rebalance and democratize global society, notions of justice from the Global South must be internationalized and normalized in the human rights canon. Furthermore, human rights should not constitute the entirety of the politics of resistance but be part of a broader constellation of struggles of resistance against oppression.

Footnotes

Funding

This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.

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